


12 Days

by nerdgirlwalking



Series: Holi-daze [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: But they are great at embarrassing Harold, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, Shaw's back, The Machine ships them, They aren't great at discussing feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve loosely interconnected tales from life after Shaw comes home. Fluff, absurdity, busted kneecaps, poor impulse control, explosions, and enough innuendo to choke a reindeer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drummer

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so the Holiday Spirt has made me a little crazy. I bring you the gift of fluff, some light angst, and a healthy side of absurdity. One Shoot mini-fic chapter a day for the next 12 days. This isn’t a Christmas fic, but there is a sort of round about Christmassy theme because I am crazy. This is what happens when holiday carols, a slight case of insomnia, and shipping goes bad.

 

 

Even for Sameen Shaw recovering from months of psychological and physical torture took a while. She scowled as she let herself in through the backdoor one of Finch’s safe houses in Upstate New York. She’d managed to shave three minutes off her time from when she first started running laps around the property but she also knew she was several minutes slower than she would have been before Samaritan’s goons got their hands on her. She released a frustrated puff of air as she toed her sneakers off on a mat near the door.

 

“You’ll get it back. Then you’ll get them all back,” She reminded herself. It had been her mantra ever since she had broken out of the fog of drugs and mental conditioning she had been placed under during her captivity.

 

Shaw was itching to get back out in the field. There was nothing like busting a few heads and kneecaps to get her blood pumping. Harold however had put the brakes on any fieldwork for the time being. Most of her physical injuries had healed. Even though she did need to work on her stamina; she was physically capable of doing the job. No Finch had frozen her out due to “concerns about her psychological recovery, specifically her impulse control.”

 

Shaw may have taken a shot at the pizza guy. In her defense he had been late on top of being annoying. She was shorter than most people; how hard was it really to look at her eyes instead of her tits? And maybe she had also pulled a knife on Finch when he woke her up one afternoon. But he had woken her up. He should have known better. And there was the guy she punched in line to get coffee. But how do you stand in line for fifteen minutes and then not know your order when you make it to the counter? Guy deserved it.

 

Apparently, these were worrying signs that Shaw’s mind still wasn’t one hundred percent her own. Shaw thought that was a load of crap. But then Finch explained that was exactly what they would want her to think. Reese had agreed with Finch and Root surprisingly had agreed with them both. No one had appreciated it when Shaw pointed out the fact that she probably would have done those things even before receiving the full Clockwork Orange treatment.

 

So Shaw had ended up shipped off to the wilds of the Adirondacks, to continue her recovery. On one hand it sucked being sent away again just when she had finally gotten home. On the other, Finch’s place was plush and the cook kept the fridge well stocked. Also three days in, Reese had driven up to drop off Bear. She had a soft bed, plenty of food, and her best pal to keep her company. Shaw had been in worse spots that was for sure.

 

She heard the sound of a spoon clinking against a coffee cup as she neared the kitchen. She slowed her steps and shifted ever so slightly around the doorway so that she could see into the room without being seen herself. Root was sitting on one of the tall bar stools that rested against the kitchen island. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun. Shaw took a breath when she leaned across the counter to grab an apple from the fruit basket, as the move caused a sliver of her stomach to appear just under the hem of her black t-shirt. She lowered her eyes, not that that lessened the appeal of the view. Root’s long legs were bare under a tiny pair of pink, nylon running shorts; all in all, she looked like she had just stumbled downstairs after rolling out of bed. Shaw really liked that look on her.

 

“Root,” Shaw nodded as she entered the kitchen.

 

Root and her three nerdy minions had arrived about a week ago. They had taken over the east wing; yes Harold’s place was large enough to have wings, to work on some heavy duty coding project. Shaw had mostly stayed out of their way, given that the nerds tended to get on her nerves and the rooms they took over smelled like a frat house.

 

Root beamed at her, “Hey, Sweetie. Have a nice run?”

 

Shaw shrugged her shoulders, “Still a little slow.”

 

“Bet you could outrun Lionel,” Root chuckled.

 

“That apple in your hand could outrun Lionel,” Shaw grumbled. Root shook her head and took a big bite.

 

“I’m surprised you crawled out of your cave this early.” Shaw stepped around the counter to open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. “Where are the three stooges?”

 

“Probably still asleep,” Root replied. “We finished phase one last night. Nothing much to do while She runs simulations.”

 

“You think that it will work? Whatever it is?” She hadn’t been exactly open with all the details. Shaw assumed it was either an upgrade to the Fembot 2.0 or something to blow Samaritan the hell up for good. Either way she hoped Root’s hard work was worth it. Though honestly she was yearning for some fireworks.

 

Root nodded, “I do. What the boys and I lack in normal social understanding we more than make up for in computing genius.”

 

“Those nerds lack way more social graces than you do, Root.” She took a long drink from her water.

 

“Watch out Shaw that was almost a compliment.”

 

She shrugged, “Just the truth.”

 

“We’re going to hang out tonight to celebrate. There’s not much to do around here but Harry has one hell of a media room. The plan is to watch some movies, maybe play some games. You could join in if you wanted, or just sit around and glare at the rest of us. There’s going to be junk food. I’ll even look the other way if you sneak a few beers.” Finch had forbidden the staff from supplying Shaw with any alcohol during her recovery.

 

“Maybe,” Shaw replied having already decided that she’d hang out for a little while and not for the beer. She wanted to spend time with Root. She had had a lot of time to think lately and she really wanted the chance to finish what she had started in that elevator. Putting up with the Geek Squad would be worth it, if only to see Root relax for once. “Gotta shower first. I’m starting to smell like part of your nerd herd.”

 

Root snorted, “They are a little gross.” Knowing that they were relatively safe for once, the guys had treated this trip like a college reunion, or in Daizo’s case college in the first place, staying up until all hours of the night working on projects, guzzling energy drinks and coffee, and ignoring most rules of polite society when it came to hygiene. “Boys will be boys you know.” The guys clearly had needed the downtime and she needed their skills. Root could put up with a little funk for it.

 

“At least in the Marines we all smelled like sweat.” Shaw remarked as she stretched out her back, “And we all knew to shower when we could.” She gestured towards her shirt, “Which I really need to do so…”

 

Root tapped her chin, “Trust me sweat on you and sweat on them are two completely different things.” She reached out and grabbed Shaw’s wrist, “I could help you work up a little more in fact.”

 

Shaw’s lips quirked up in the tiniest semblance of a smile. Root had been slowly reintroducing the flirty banter into their dynamic since she had brought the nerds up here. Shaw took it as a good sign. Root had been…careful, with her since her return from the dead. Any semblance of normalcy in their relationship was totally welcome. Maybe once life got back to normal she and Root could figure out this thing between them.

 

So for now Shaw played the game. She yanked her arm from Root’s grasp, “The water pressure in my shower is shit, could use an extra set of hands with the plumbing.”

 

Root stood up and slid into Shaw’s personal space, “Not exactly the type of sweat I meant, Sweetie.”

 

“Only type I have on offer today.”

 

Root rocked back and forth on her heels, “Well my offer’s open for tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.”

 

“Where’d you leave your drum?” At the confused tilt of Root’s head she explained further, “You’re like a horny energizer bunny.”

 

Root played with the hem of her t-shirt. “Oh if you only knew how true that is, Sameen.”

 

Shaw did not gulp at that thought. She just happened to take an extra-large sip of water. Because she was hot…from her run. “Whatever,” She shouldered past Root and made a beeline towards the door.

 

“I’ll save you a seat next to me tonight,” Root called after her. Shaw smiled as she climbed the stairs. Things were looking more normal every day.

 

Hanging with the nerds honestly hadn’t been that bad. Shaw had commandeered the entire loveseat adjacent to the recliner Root had set up in. A large, now empty, pizza box took up the seat to her left and a cold bottle of beer was in her right hand. Bear had taken up residence at her feet. All in all she was quite comfortable.

 

Daizo had offered Shaw a controller when they had first started up the game. Virtual combat wasn’t really her thing after having lived it in vivid color for much of her life so she had waved the offer off. Still she didn’t find herself bored. It was frankly hilarious watching Root destroy the Geek Squad at their little war games. Also, it was oddly fascinating to watch the guys try and one up each other for Root’s attention. Since she was better than all three put together at the game, they would try to talk up their individual accomplishments. These boys were sad. As if their lame ass headshot count in a video game would impress a woman like Root.

 

Please, Shaw could tell her about actually making head shots off of tenement buildings in war zones. Shaw snorted into her beer. Not that Shaw felt the need to impress Root. She was just making the mental point to the universe that she could.

 

Though now that Daniel was in the middle of unpacking a bunch of plastic musical instruments from a large box, why the hell did Harold even own Rock Band, Shaw had probably reached her social time limit. There wasn’t enough junk food and beer in the world for her to sit through drunken nerd karaoke. She scratched Bear between the ears. Yeah, she’d finish this beer and then call it a night.

 

“Do we really want the deaf chick on drums?” Shaw’s head snapped up to glare over at Jason Greenfield. Did he really just? The guy had been pounding back the beers like water for a few hours now and it was obviously impacting his common damn sense.

 

“Don’t be a jackass just because she beat you at Call of Duty man,” Daniel growled. Daizo mumbled what Shaw was pretty sure was a Japanese expletive in agreement for good measure.

 

“Jesus, I was just kidding around,” Jason snapped. He swept his arm towards Root, “Pretty sure you jumping up to be her white knight is totally unnecessary, look at her she doesn’t even care.” Jason scoffed, “So basically thanks for being over sensitive and bringing down the room dude.”

 

“You’re right, I don’t need anyone to swoop in and rescue me,” Root replied before Daniel could say anything. She stood up from the recliner. Shaw noticed a slight red flush making its way up the side of her neck. Greenfield was about to get it. “In fact, I seem to recall saving your ass not that long ago, Jason,” Root’s voice was like poisoned syrup.

 

“You’ve saved all our asses, Root,” Daniel nodded. He glared at Jason, “Someone should remember that.”

 

“I’m going to go freshen up.” Root glanced at Jason, “You should switch to water while I’m gone.” She rolled her eyes at Shaw as she passed her on the way to the door. Shaw motioned for Bear to follow her. The dog eagerly hopped up to follow that command, perhaps sensing the rising tension in the room.

 

Jason whirled on Daniel once Root was out of sight, “What the hell was that about?”

 

“You’re seriously coming at me right now?” Daniel gaped at him, “You’re the one who should shut his mouth and show some respect.”

 

“Didn’t know pointing out the obvious was suddenly disrespectful.”

 

Daizo made a choking noise and then let loose at him with a rapid stream of Japanese that Shaw would have been hard pressed to follow had she understood the language. Dainel seemed to be able to follow and nodded along while Jason’s jaw tightened. “It was a joke.”

 

“Stupid joke,” Daizo hissed.

 

Jason threw his hands in the air in exasperation, “She didn’t even care.”

 

“Well we did,” Daniel replied. “Booze really makes you an asshole, Jason.” Shaw tended to think the guy was already an asshole but like many people the application of too many beers just removed his filter. She kept that thought to herself for the moment, wanting to see how this all played out with the guys before stepping in.

 

“What does it matter? This new program doesn’t work we’re probably all going to die anyway,” Jason shrugged and then bent over to continue where Daniel left off setting up the game equipment.

 

Great the jackass was not only an annoying drunk but a maudlin one as well. Shaw finished the rest of her beer in one gulp. The Machine sure knew how to pick ‘em. Obviously the damn thing hit its peak when it told Harold to bring Shaw in; its recruitment drive nosedived off a cliff from that point.

 

“And you know what?” Jason asked glaring over at Daniel. “You may as well give it up. Doesn’t matter how many times you throw a little social justice fit at me you’re never going to get in her pants. Maybe you haven’t noticed but I’m pretty sure Root’s a dyke.” He pointedly glanced towards Shaw.

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at him and he looked away. She didn’t like his tone, and who Root fucked was none of his business. Shaw’s jaw tightened the more she thought about it. Root may have taken the high road by walking away but she would not. Yeah, that would be quite enough commentary from nerd boy number three. She stood up and ignoring a still grumbling Jason, walked over to the other two. Shaw tapped Daniel on the shoulder, “Can I see that for a sec?” She pointed at the plastic bass guitar in his hand.

 

“Uh sure, Shaw.” He quickly handed it over. In all honesty the woman scared the crap out of him on a good day. The look in her eyes right now gave him the urge to go change his pants.

 

“Thanks, Nerd.” Shaw nodded to him and then turned towards Jason. “Hey, Greenfield, how about I give you a beat?”

 

“What?” Jason started to turn around.

 

She brought the plastic instrument up and across the side of his head with a vengeance. The plastic shattered on impact sending Daniel and Daizo ducking for cover. Jason fell over in a heap of plastic shards. Shaw dropped what was left of the fake guitar across his back. He didn’t react at all, knocked out cold. “Anyone else have anything to say about Root’s hearing, or her personal life?” Daniel shook his head while Daizo held up his hands and slowly backed away.

 

So maybe Shaw’s impulse control was still a little out of whack.

 

Idiot shouldn’t have popped off about Root though, drunk or not. She bent down and scooped up one of the remaining pizza boxes from the coffee table. “Think I’ve had enough of quality time with you nerds.”

 

“Why don’t you take what’s left of the beer too,” Daniel offered, holding out the remaining six pack. Shaw had the grace not to smirk at how much his arm was shaking. Just barely though. “I think Jason has had enough.” Daizo just frantically nodded his head at her.

 

“Don’t mind if I do boys.” Shaw took the booze from him. “Let Root know?”

 

“Sure,” Daniel stuttered.

 

But Shaw didn’t feel much like eating or drinking once she got back up to her room. She just felt tired. Tired of being here. Tired of dealing with idiots like Greenfield. Tired of dancing around whatever it was she had going on with Root. She quickly changed for bed. “Maybe it was too early to start drinking again,” She sighed as she flopped down onto the mattress. “And maybe Finch was on to something about the whole impulse control thing.”

 

After a couple of minutes she rolled over and clicked off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in darkness. She hoped Root would let Bear sleep in her room tonight. Shaw really did not feel like going back downstairs to get him. There was a light knock on the door.

 

“Shaw it’s me. Can you come open the door?”

 

Now Shaw knew for a fact that Root was fully capable of picking the lock. She also knew, however that Root wouldn’t do it, innately understanding Shaw’s need to be able to control something as simple as having a private space after living by the whims of others up until recently. The woman had been extremely respectful of her boundaries as of late. “A little too respectful,” Shaw grumbled as she slid out of bed.

 

Root was smiling when Shaw opened the door. “Thanks, Sweetie. “ She stepped past Shaw and into the room.

 

“Oh sure come on in,” Shaw turned and closed the door behind her. When she turned around again Root was only about half a step away from her. She didn’t say anything so Shaw took the initiative, “Greenfield wake up from his nap yet?”

 

“I convinced Daniel to clean him up and put him to bed,” Root smirked. “No one was really in the mood to play anymore after that.”

 

“Can’t say that I’m sorry about it.”

 

“I’m not either.” She took a step forward and then another causing Shaw to retreat until her back was against the door.

 

The look Root was giving her reminded Shaw of before. Days spent dodging bullets and innuendos in equal measure. When Root’s smiles weren’t so measured; her eyes not as haunted. Back before they had so many broken edges between them.

 

“Where’s Bear?” She swallowed.

 

“Daizo has him.” Shaw nodded. Root tilted her head, “Do you really want to talk about Jason and Bear right now?”

 

Shaw shrugged, “Isn’t that why you came up here?”

 

“No.”

 

“Root,” Shaw began but was quickly cut off as the other woman took her jaw in her hands and pulled her into a rough kiss. She froze for a moment but the feeling of Root’s teeth raking across her bottom lip soon pulled her out of her stupor. She reached out and put her arm around her waist pulling her closer. Root smiled into the kiss.

 

Minutes or it could have been hours later, Root pulled away for them to catch their breaths. “You really are the sweetest thing,” She whispered.

 

Shaw looked up at her, “Because I knocked out a nerd?” It couldn’t possibly be that easy.

 

Root’s smile told her that just maybe it could. “Knocked out a nerd while defending my honor.”

 

“He’s an annoying drunk; your honor didn’t have anything to do with it,” Shaw scoffed for old time’s sake. She leaned her head back. “And what happened to not needing anyone to swoop in and save you?”

 

“I don’t.” She trailed a hand down across Shaw’s chest. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t slightly sexy when you do it.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “I told you that wasn’t what I was doing.” They both knew that was a load of crap.

 

“That’s a shame.” Root licked her lips, “I was planning on rewarding you for it.”

 

“Well what kind of reward are we talking here?”

 

“Something I think we’ve both wanted for a long time.” She moved away from Shaw and into the darkened bedroom.

 

Shaw bit her lip and locked the door. Screw impulse control.

 


	2. Pipes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root and Shaw have the talk. Well part one of the talk because they are emotionally stunted weirdoes.

 

 

Today had been a good day. Lionel had driven up to Finch’s safe house for the weekend. He and Shaw had spent the afternoon at a local gun range. It had felt so good to have a weapon in her hand again. And since her aim was still better than Lionel’s and he was dumb enough to make a bet with her about it, he got to give Bear his weekly bath. “Like candy from a baby,” Shaw chuckled to herself as she climbed the stairs to the second floor.

 

While Lionel spent the rest of the time before dinner getting up close and personal with Bear, Shaw was going to take a shower and then maybe a nap. She turned down the hallway leading towards her bedroom. Maybe she’d try giving Root a call. They’d kept in fairly regular communication since she and her team of nerds had packed up and left two weeks ago after achieving some kind of programming breakthrough. Root and Shaw had had a personal breakthrough of their own during that visit. One she was very much looking forward to repeating.

 

Shaw’s steps slowed as she neared the open door to her bedroom. That wasn’t right. The staff knew to always keep her door closed. Someone was in her room. And what was that noise? Was that splashing? Shaw stomped through the open door. Her bedroom was in fact empty. Well, empty except for a laptop sitting on the dresser and angled towards the bathroom. What in the hell? Shaw walked towards the en suite. What she saw there through the door stopped her in her tracks. “What did you do?”

 

Root smiled sheepishly at Shaw from her place in the large walk in shower. “Don’t worry, I can fix this.” She looked like a drowned rat. Root’s hair hung in thick, wet clumps, some of it clearly sticking to the side of her neck. Her white tank top clung to her body revealing the contours of her stomach and her black bra. Shaw wasn’t about to complain about that detail though.

 

“Root, you seriously do not have to set up elaborate porno situations to get in my pants.” After the other night Shaw was going to be pretty damn easy for Root in fact. Perky Psycho was that good. If Shaw had any shame at all she might even have felt bad about it.

 

“While that’s certainly welcome news, Sweetie, I was actually trying to fix your shower.”

 

“What? Why?” Now that she had a good look at the room, Shaw noticed what looked suspiciously like a broken pipe where the showerhead used to be. And the splashing noise she heard a moment ago, that must have been Root walking around in what appeared to be an ankle-deep puddle that was quickly spreading from the shower and out into the rest of the room.

 

“You were complaining about the water pressure the other day,” Root replied as she turned to dig around in a tool box that was propped up on the low bench that allowed for the glass enclosed shower to double as a sauna. She pulled out a large pipe wrench and swung it around a couple of times.

 

Shaw stepped fully into the bathroom. Her socks immediately began sucking up water and squishing between her toes. “So you decided that you were suddenly a plumber? Playing hours of Super Mario Bros doesn’t count, Root.”

 

“I’m not the idiot who installed the pipes in reverse.” Root gestured towards the wall with the wrench. “The shutoff valve should turn counter clockwise.” She flicked a clump of soggy hair out of her eyes, “This one does not. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

 

Shaw examined the floor around the shower. It didn’t look like it was warping yet but this much standing water was not a good thing. “Not quickly enough to save Harold the bill for water damage.”

 

“But the water is really off now,” Root ignored her. “And I’ll call out for an industrial fan or something.”

 

“Because I really want to sleep to the sound of an industrial fan on top of walking down the hall to pee if I don’t want to wear waders to do it?”

 

“Please, you and I both know you’re not sleeping in your bed tonight.”

 

Okay, Shaw would grant her that one. Once she saw Root, sleeping was the furthest thing from her mind. She still owed the woman a little shit for this mess though, “And the broken pipe where my showerhead used to be?”

 

Root glared up at the pipe in question, “I also think the idiot used some type of experimental cement to stick that on. The entire thing just sheared off from the main pipe when I turned the wrench.”

 

Shaw gestured around the room. “I think you need The Machine to google the term fixing for you because clearly your understanding of the term is lacking.”

 

Root slumped against the wall, “You try to do something nice for a girl.”

 

Shaw hopped up to take a seat on the counter and pull off her now soaking wet socks. “Yeah, this thought doesn’t count.”

 

“Sam,” Root groaned.

 

“I’m not going to lie to you, Root.” She smirked, “You clearly do not have a future as a plumber.”

 

She tossed the wrench back into the tool box with a loud clank. “I didn’t think it was going to go this badly when I started working on this plan.”

 

Shaw hoped not. Then again had you asked her yesterday she would have hoped that Root was smart enough to call a damn plumber to do this kind of work. “What exactly were you thinking?”

 

“That I’m part of a team that rebuilt a near omnipresent, Artificial Super Intelligence. I brought a god back to life, how hard could plumbing be in comparison?”

 

“And how did that line of thought work out for you?” Root just slumped against the shower wall and pouted at her. “So have we learned a lesson from this?”

 

“Harry’s contractor was an idiot that didn’t know his left from his right?”

 

“Besides that.” Shaw threw her now balled up socks at the hamper to Root’s right. They hit the wall with a wet squelch and rebounded into the bin.

 

If anything Root’s pout grew more severe, “I’m pretty sure that was the only lesson to be learned here.”

 

Shaw leaned forward with her hands on her thighs, “No, the lesson is you can’t learn everything from a computer.” Root blinked at her like she had spouted a font of pure gibberish. “Seriously, sometimes you have to leave stuff to the professionals.”

 

“Do you know how much a plumber costs?”

 

“Do you know how much Harold has in his many bank accounts?” Shaw held up a hand when Root opened her mouth to answer, “Don’t actually tell me, I was being facetious.”

 

“Ooh I do love it when you go nerd on me, Shaw.”

 

“Knowing my SAT words doesn’t make me a nerd, Nerd.”

 

Root ran a hand through her wet hair and sighed, “Maybe I got in a little over my head.”

 

“I guess it was nice of you to try and fix it,” Shaw rolled her eyes; “Still not sure what possessed you to try in the first place.” She pulled the hand towel off of its hook by the sink and tossed it at Root, who caught it with one hand.

 

Root dabbed her face with the towel, “I know you hate being stuck here.” She wiped her neck and then looked back at Shaw, “I just wanted to do everything I could to make it as comfortable an experience as possible for you.”

 

“It’s not uncomfortable, Root.” Not by a longshot. Shaw shook her head, “I mean it’s better than the subway. Definitely way better than anywhere Samaritan had me stashed.”

 

Root wasn’t satisfied with that however, “But it’s not where you want to be.”

 

“Honestly, no.” Shaw shrugged her shoulders, “But, I get that it’s where I need to be for the moment for the good of the team.” She had actually learned a lesson or two from everything that happened.

 

“I don’t want to trap you Shaw. Or make you…” Root trailed off looking away.

 

She hopped down from the counter. “Make me what?”

 

Root opened and closed her mouth a couple of times but didn’t manage to say anything. Normally Shaw would love the fact that the other woman was at a loss for words and thus was blissfully silent for once but she got the feeling that she needed to know what she meant this time. “Make me what, Root?”

 

Root pursed her lips. “Things have changed,” She finally managed. “You’ve done things you might not have before…” She left that thought hanging.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “I think I’ve been here without incident long enough to prove I’m not some brainwashed Decima pod-person.”

 

“No, I know that. I’m not talking about the mission.” Root twisted the towel in her hands, “It’s your personal actions.”

 

“Personal?” Shaw snapped, causing Root to flinch. “What? You think I hooked up with you because I was bored and didn’t have any other options?”

 

Root shrugged, and kept her eyes on anything but Shaw’s face, “I’ve had sex with people for worse reasons.”

 

“You came to me that night, Root. Are you trying to say you regret it?”

 

“No, never,” She swore. “I just want to be sure that you were with me because it was what you wanted.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose, “For someone so smart you can be such a fucking moron.”

 

Root’s head snapped up, “What?”

 

“Look, I’m only going to say this once. I am never going to do long walks on the beach or all that rainbows and roses crap. There are never going to be picket fences and 2.5 kids with me. I don’t even like kids. I’m not a hugger. I like Bear more than 99.9% of the world’s population. And I’d rather dig my own eyeballs out with a melon baller than celebrate Valentine’s Day. I can’t give anyone what the world would call a normal relationship. But I get the distinct feeling that that isn’t what you’re looking for.”

 

“God, no,” Root tossed the towel into the hamper.

 

“Okay, then if you want to keep doing what we do with added naked benefits then I am all for it.” Shaw looked her in the eyes, “I’m all in on this, if you are Root.”

 

“I do. I am,” Root nodded.

 

Shaw moved closer to her, “Well alright then.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Oh for god’s sake, Root.” Shaw reached out and pulled her into a kiss.

 

Root laughed when they separated. She leaned her forehead against Shaw’s. “That little move of yours never gets old.”

 

“Think I used it to much better effect this time,” She grinned.

 

Root pursed her lips, “Last time defiantly left an impression though.”

 

“Yes, I know it was epic. Still, let’s never do that again.”

 

“Gladly,” Root agreed. She wrapped Shaw up in a hug, “Thank you.”

 

To her credit Shaw didn’t attempt to get away, “For what?”

 

Root shook her head, “Just thank you.”

 

“Okay, weirdo.” Shaw took a deep breath, “I’m not good at this sort of thing, Root.” She wanted it, and she would do everything she could not to screw it up but Shaw was fully aware of her own limitations.

 

“You might end up being better at this than me.” Root laughed, “Seeing as you were able to use your words while all I did was wreck Harold’s house.”

 

Shaw appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood. “I guess it’s not surprising, I do have excellence coming out of my pores.”

 

Root canted her head, “I thought that was finesse,” She slid a hand down Shaw’s back until it rested on her backside, “And it was from your ass?” She gave the body part in question a hearty squeeze for good measure.

 

“Damn mouthy machine,” Shaw growled as she began trailing kisses down Root’s neck.

 

“Actually, Harry told me about that one.”

 

Shaw paused to glance up at Root’s smug face, “Suddenly, I care less about Finch’s floors.”

 

Root quirked an eyebrow at that, “You cared about them in the first place?”

 

“Okay, no. Not really other than the fact that switching rooms is going to be a pain in the ass.”

 

Root gave it another squeeze. Apparently she was an ass girl. “I’ll help you move everything. It’s the least I can do.”

 

“The very least,” Shaw grumbled into her neck.

 

“There’s my grumpy girl. I was beginning to worry what with this whole sensitive chat thing we had going on.”

 

“I don’t know, hard to stay grumpy when you keep showing up for conjugal visits.” Shaw lightly nipped the underside of her jaw, “Keep it up and my mood will be almost perky.”

 

“Better stop coming around then,” Root snorted, “I don’t think the world could handle a perky Sameen Shaw.”

 

“The world will have to deal with it. Once you go nerd…well I don’t care enough to come up with the rest of that sentence but you get the point.”

 

“I do,” Root smiled wider. “But maybe we could go nerd somewhere more comfortable? I’m getting a little cold.”

 

Shaw glanced down between them at Root’s chest. “I know,” She looked back up with a lecherous grin.

 

Root pulled away, “Come on. The view will be just as good from my room.” Shaw let her pull them out of the bathroom.

 

“Wait, what about my shower?”

 

“I have a perfectly good one over in my suite.”

 

“True, doesn’t fix the mess you left in my bathroom, but true.”

 

Just then the doorbell rang. “And She called an actual plumber the minute I started working.”

 

Shaw chuckled and turned her head towards the laptop still sitting on the dresser, “Good looking out, Go-Bot!”

 

“She appreciates your enthusiasm, Sweetie.” Root tugged on Shaw’s arm. “Now, since the staff is more than capable of showing the plumber where to go and to make sure he doesn’t mess with your stuff; I’d appreciate a bit of your enthusiasm elsewhere.”

 

“Fine by me.”

 

“So step one we head to my suite and get out of these wet clothes. Then we use my shower to warm up a little. Together of course to save water after so much was wasted in my attempt to woo you.”

 

“Yeah, you suck at wooing and plumbing apparently. But keep talking, so far this plan sounds much better than your last one.”

 

“And then step three we move to the bedroom and lay some pipe?” Root waggled her eyebrows.

 

“Spoke too soon; there you go killing the mood.”


	3. Leaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First mission back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, I really didn't expect the response I've been getting on this so far. Thanks for all the kudos and comments. I'll pop in my inbox and respond individually to comments left but just wanted to give all of you a big thanks for reading!

 

 

 

Of course Shaw’s first official mission back from exile would go pear shaped. Of course it would. She was currently crouching on the side of a barely paved road tying a makeshift bandage around a bullet graze on their current number’s arm. Honest Eddie Cahill, in a move with more irony than an Alanis Morissette jam, had decided to embezzle cash from the wrong group of local businessmen. Now Root and Shaw were running around the middle of nowhere New Jersey trying to keep the idiot alive and out of the hands of the angry goodfellas who were following them.

 

Seemed like a normal mission on first glance. Great way to ease Shaw back in to the number saving business without too much fuss. Would have been a piece of cake really except for one little wrinkle. Eddie, though currently sporting a bank account several zeros larger than your average strip mall accountant, still drove a complete piece of shit compact coup. A piece of shit compact coup that had in fact decided to crap out in the middle of a car chase.

 

Thanks to some of The Machine’s divine intervention they had managed to break away from their pack of pursuers and down this lonely road for a moment before the car completely gave up the ghost. The detour wouldn’t fool anyone for long and without a car their options were limited. Root had stayed with the car to create an additional diversion while Shaw had frog marched Eddie down the road about a mile.

 

“Am I going to lose my arm?” Eddie whimpered.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “Don’t be such a drama queen.” Honestly, Root was a decent field medic, why did Shaw get stuck with this guy?

 

“I don’t know,” He wheezed. “I’ve never been shot before. How am I supposed to react?”

 

“Maybe you should have thought about that before stealing all that cash from Vito.” Honestly, what did he think the guy was going to do when he noticed his accounts were 250K lighter?

 

“I didn’t think he’d notice.”

 

“And that’s why you have a hole in your arm right now.” She secured the strip of Eddie’s undershirt that she was using as a bandage with one final tug, and ignored Eddie’s pained groan. “News flash these guys always notice and they expect to get theirs back one way or the other.”

 

“Oh god I don’t want to die,” Eddie choked out and buried his head in his hands. Again on the list of things one should consider before stealing from the mob.

 

Shaw looked to the sky and let out a deep breath. How did she always get stuck with the criers? She couldn’t even deal with this right now. She stood up and took a few steps back down the road to let the guy wallow in peace for a few minutes while they waited for Root. Shaw took the time to check her remaining ammo. Three rounds in her gun and a spare clip in her jacket. Tactical knife tucked into her left boot. Root should have a spare clip or two tucked inside of her jacket. Not bad, but not great if they got pinned down for too long.

 

She was just about to hit her ear piece to check on Root when the ground shook and a massive boom sounded through the trees. “What the hell was that?” Eddie shouted at her with wide eyes.

 

Shaw pulled her gun, “Don’t know. But you better hope my friend is okay.” Shaw would not hesitate to put a bullet in Eddie if his cheap, thieving ass had gotten Root killed.

 

“Awe Shaw were you worried about me?” Root’s voice came through her earpiece.

 

“Root, are you okay?”

 

“Just fine,” She panted. Shaw could hear a crackling noise in the background.

 

“Why are you breathing heavy?”

 

“Trying to outrun a tiny fire at the moment, Sweetie. We miscalculated the blast radius just a smidge.”

 

The wind shifted and Shaw began to smell the smoke. “Let me guess, Eddie is out one piece of shit Kia?”

 

“Very astute of you.”

 

Shaw rubbed the back of her neck; this was supposed to have been an easy job but it seemed to keep getting more and more complicated. “Not that it was much use before you blew it up, but what are we going to do without a car?”

 

“Everything will be just fine, trust me.”

 

“Meaning that you do have a plan to get us out of here?”

 

“Of course,” Root replied as she appeared out of the tree line. She jogged the remaining few yards to Shaw’s side.

 

“You smell like a barbeque.” Shaw turned and walked back towards Eddie. When she reached him, she grabbed his good arm and hauled him to his feet.

 

Root shook her head and followed, “If you think this smells like proper barbeque then I have to take you to Texas for the real thing.”

 

Shaw scoffed, “You hate Texas.” She knew for a fact that Root avoided going back to her home state as much as humanly possible.

 

“But you love ribs. We could go to Dallas during the fair. Everything you could ever want is available deep fried. Make a weekend of it, barbeque crawl one day, visit the fairgrounds on another, then maybe catch a Cowboys’ game,” Root grinned. Shaw couldn’t say she hated the sound of that. Of course they had to find a way to get away from Vito and his goons before making any concrete travel plans.

 

“Now come on, that little explosion bought us ten minutes.” Root pointed to an old railroad bridge just off of the road. “Head for the bridge. Climb on to the tracks and stop when we’re half way across.”

 

Shaw shoved their number in the middle of his back to get him moving in the right direction. The bridge looked like it hadn’t been used in decades. She hoped the wood underneath their feet wasn’t rotten. Thankfully the night was clear and the moon was bright enough to spill ample light onto the tracks so that they could see clearly enough not to trip over themselves.

 

“Everybody can swim right?” Root asked when they came to a stop.

 

Shaw glanced over at her, “I am so not going to like the reason you’re asking that am I?”

 

“Depends on how you feel about extreme sports, Sweetie.”

 

Eddie looked back and forth between them finally settling his gaze on Shaw. “Can you get her to speak English please?” The taller woman had been speaking in half thoughts and riddles since he had fallen in with these two a few hours ago. The little one was scary but at least she mostly made sense.

 

“We’re going to have to jump,” Root huffed as she began to climb over the bridge’s safety railing.

 

“We what?” Eddie asked. “No, way.”

 

“Yes, way,” Shaw growled and shoved him at the railing. “Climb or I will shoot you in the knee and leave you for Vito.”

 

He begrudgingly grabbed the upper rung and began to pull himself up and over with his good arm. “Why can’t we keep following the road?”

 

“They’ll catch us before we can make it into town if we keep following the road,” Root replied. She held out a hand to steady him as he eased over the railing to stand beside her. “We die for sure if we don’t jump.”

 

“This is a pretty big leap, Root,” Shaw said as she hauled her legs over the barrier and dropped down on to the small sliver of timber on the far side of the safety railing between Root and the number. If he freaked out he wasn’t going to take Root down with him. Shaw eased forward to examine the water below. Then again odds were he was more likely to try and break back for the road given the height. She looked at Root, “From this high I’m not sure we don’t get killed either way.”

 

“Survival rate is 88.99% with a jump from this elevation,” Root parroted The Machine’s whisper in her ear. “Odds are slightly higher that we’ll break one or more limbs on impact but what’s a little exposed bone marrow when compared to exposed brain matter?”

 

“Is she fucking serious right now?” Eddie asked Shaw with panicked eyes. He grabbed her arm. “She can’t be fucking serious.”

 

Shaw jerked out of his grasp. “Try not to piss your pants.” She tilted her head in thought. “Or do it on the way down, at least the water will clean you up a little.”

 

He groaned, and moved so that his back was fully against the railing. “This is Jersey, that water is probably full of toxic sludge.”

 

“Odds are…”

 

“Root, no offence but I really don’t want to hear the odds on whether or not I’m about to dive head first into a river full of toxic chemicals okay?”

 

Root smirked, “Actually, the proper diving form...”

 

“No,” Shaw held up a hand. “Keep it to yourself.” She glanced over the edge again. “She absolutely sure we can’t go any other way?” Shaw wasn’t afraid but broken bones still stung like a bitch. She glanced to the side, and this number was whiney enough as is.

 

“She’s sure and now we’ve got four minutes,” Root replied.

 

“Who is she? Why am I letting you two and the little voices in your head tell me what to do?”

 

Shaw reached out and swiftly thumped the bullet graze on his arm. When he was done moaning in pain she answered, “We’re telling you what to do because at the moment we’re the only ones in a ten mile radius who don’t want you dead. Though you keep complaining and that will change real quick.”

 

“Jesus, I thought you were supposed to be helping me.”

 

“This is me helping,” Shaw shrugged. “Look if Root says we have to jump then that is what we have to do. Bitching about it is only going to get you killed that much faster.”

 

“Well put, Sweetie.” Root glanced over at Eddie, “Trust me I wouldn’t put you or my partner at risk with a jump if it wasn’t our best possible option.” Eddie looked a little green but gave Root a nod.

 

“So we jump and then swim to the far shoreline,” Root pointed in that direction. “There’s a logging trail about two hundred yards north of here we can hit and then follow towards the highway. The woods are a little gnarly on that side of the river so we should have plenty of cover. She’s sending help to pick us up.”

 

“As long as we make it that far,” Shaw grumbled.

 

“Nervous, Shaw?”

 

“No”

 

“Well I kind of am.” Root leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Shaw’s lips. “For luck,” Root pulled away to look down at Shaw with a Cheshire cat grin on her face. She tried to step back but Shaw fisted a hand in her shirt and brought her down for a second, deeper kiss.

 

“I think I could use some luck more than her under the circumstances,” Eddie complained. Shaw let Root go with a scowl and turned her attention to their number who was still ranting. “You two are some sort of vigilantes, so you’re used to all of this. I’m not. You know I’m the one people are trying to kill here and now you tell me I got to jump off a bridge? I'm the one who should be getting kissed…ahhhh…”

 

“Shaw!” Root snapped as she watched their number fall, hit the murky river below with a splash, and then disappear. Thankfully after a moment she saw him break the surface of the water again and begin to swim towards the shoreline.

 

“What? He was wasting time rambling about things that were never going to happen.”

 

“You’re cute.”

 

Shaw canted her head to the side at the sound of approaching engines. “And we’re out of time.” She held her hand out to Root. “Ready?”

 

“To take the plunge with you?” Root smiled and took her hand, “Only since the day we met.”

 

“You are such a dork.”


	4. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root thinking about her life these past few years, the future, and Shaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this one decided to go to Eeyore mode.

 

 

“All right Shorty let’s dance!”

 

“You totally did not just say that.” Shaw rolled her eyes over at Root, who grinned and shook her head. Shaw focused back on her burly (seriously did this guy not have a neck), opponent. “Hey, Moron this isn’t Die Hard. Stop with the quips and throw a punch if you’re really dumb enough to think you can take me.”

 

“You’ve got about nine minutes before the next patrol comes around,” Root told Shaw. “So be quick, but have fun.”

 

Shaw sidestepped the big fella as he charged at her. “From the looks of this guy I’ll only need seven.”

 

“Seven? What did he do to piss you off enough to drag things out?” Root laughed.

 

“That tie for starters.” Shaw ducked under a wild swing and yanked on the offending item bringing her attacker’s head down in perfect position to meet with her left knee. His head snapped back, twin trails of crimson flowing from his smashed nose and over his chin.

 

She had a point, the tie was hideous. Root tilted her head to the side, “Maybe he’s color blind?”

 

“That’s no excuse.”

 

Root leaned against the desk and watched her girl work. Shaw was a blur of fists and feet as she pummeled the Decima Agent into submission. All Root needed was an apple and this would be just like their first date.

 

She sighed at the memory. Shaw had been so adorably confused when walking into the CIA drop site, scanning the area for clues. Then the agent in the bad suit had stumbled through the bathroom door and rushed her. The guy had about a foot and a hundred pounds on her easily but Shaw hadn’t hesitated to meet him when he rushed at her. Her movements were sharp, fluid, and brutal. But to Root they carried an innate grace. There was artistry to what Shaw did, how she moved.

 

Of course Shaw hadn’t considered it a date at the time. In fact seeing as their little adventure ended with her knocking Root unconscious, and not in the fun way, she appeared to lean more on the side of it being a coerced business venture rather than a romantic overture. Looking back Root couldn’t help but see it in those terms however. She had harbored a certain attraction to Sameen for quite some time even at that point in their association.

 

Root hadn’t been lying upon their first meeting when she told Shaw that after reading her file she had become a big fan of the ISA Operative. The record outlined in those pages described a brilliant, brutally efficient woman. A woman who took talents that most would frown upon and turned them into her greatest strengths. Root sensed that like her, Sameen Shaw was someone fully capable of seeing the world as it really was.

 

The fact that she was incredibly gorgeous was just icing on the cake.

 

Finding the other woman attractive should not have distracted Root from her purpose. Root had known at an early age on which side her bread was buttered. Many attractive women had come and gone in her life. Several of them had wound up in her bed for a night or two before she grew bored of them. On paper Shaw was intriguing, in person compelling, but she was a means to an objective being accomplished at first, nothing more.

 

The flirting began like so many other things as a way to manipulate, to distract, to tunnel under the formidable woman’s defenses like punching through a particularly stout firewall. Root wasn’t entirely certain when things shifted; when annoying Shaw became about proving that she could elicit more emotion from her than anyone else, rather than simply creating another thorn in Harold’s team’s side. Shaw snuck up on her. She was a worm burrowing around in the background spiriting pieces of Root away without her knowledge.

 

Shaw was refreshing in her lack of guile. Oh sure she could play the part for the mission. She could smile and twist and work people, certain types of men especially, with skill. But in her personal affairs Shaw was straightforward. You were either worth her time or you weren’t. You mattered to her or you did not. And despite her Axis II designation Shaw was fully capable of caring about people in her own way.

 

She cared about Root.

 

By the time Shaw biked across the city in a blackout and followed her into a Decima fortress, Root was too far gone to do anything about it. She hadn’t realized Shaw cared quite that much about her but Root counted herself lucky that she did. She held on to it during the months spent with little contact with the team or The Machine while sinking into their new covers. When she was able to finally reestablish contact, she used each small sign of care to sustain herself until their next meeting. Shaw had become almost as indispensable to her existence as The Machine.

 

After the Stock Exchange, Root discovered that that had been a severe understatement.

 

They had been dancing around it for weeks. Enemies, to begrudging (especially on Shaw’s part) colleagues, to partners, and then they both knew there was something else brewing there. It was there when Shaw asked for Root’s help with decontamination after sending Tomas on his merry way. It was there when Root raced across the city nearly wiping out on her bike a hundred times desperately trying to reach Shaw when her cover was blown. It was there when Shaw forgave Root without words for drugging her and dragging her down to the subway to keep her safe. It was there when bleeding and unsure if she’d make it out of the basement of the Stock Exchange; Root had called Shaw to “catch up” because the last thing she wanted to hear was her voice.

 

And it was there when Shaw kissed her and then stepped into a hail of gunfire.

 

Root once told Harold that all the awful people in the world were simply a result of bad code. She was sure that he had assumed at the time that she held herself apart, as superior programing, as a superior person. The fact of the matter was that Root was fully aware that she was faulty. Up until that point in her life she had simply followed her mother’s advice and had made the best of it by following her talents. Obviously, she had grown and changed somewhat throughout her time spent with Her. The Machine had taken great strides in reformatting Root if you will. But down in her core Root would always be bad code and all of that came roaring out once Sameen went missing.

 

To say that Root suffered a crisis of faith would be putting it lightly. She had assumed that any sacrifices would be hers to make. She was wrong. She had assumed that The Machine would do everything in her power to rescue one of her chosen. She was wrong. She had assumed that she was fully prepared to lose any and every one if it meant victory in this war. She was so very wrong.

 

All those little pieces Shaw had stolen when Root hadn’t been paying attention? Once she was gone it felt like she had taken everything with her. Root was left hollow. She hadn’t known how to cope with it. The Machine had tried to make Root human again but she didn’t work right without Shaw.

 

“Hey Eeyore,” Shaw called out to her. Root snapped back to the present to see Shaw standing over the unconscious body of the Decima Agent. “You got those zip ties handy?”

 

“Sure do, Sweetie.” Root’s smile was wide though it wasn’t reflected in her eyes. She reached into the inner pocket of her leather jacket and tossed a bundle of the plastic restraints over to Shaw.

 

It still caught her by surprise sometimes that they had managed to win this fight. That Shaw had returned whole and mostly hale. That the program She had guided Root and her team to create had crippled Samaritan beyond repair. That now they were taking the final steps to remove the threat of Decima and Samaritan’s remaining human agents. In a matter of weeks this dance would be over for good.

 

What would they make of themselves when there was no longer a war to fight? Root had never allowed herself to truly think about it. Never dared to hope. She hadn’t lied to Harry when she told him that this would be the fight where she thought she might be able to meet a good end. Now she found herself staring at a beginning instead.

 

She doesn’t know the right steps.

 

She used to be so certain, so confident in where she was headed. She had been the one to challenge Shaw’s indifference. Root had been the one to argue that one day Shaw would realize how perfect they were for one another. That someday, even if it did result in a messy explosion, they could have something real, that there was no one else for either of them. She still knew that deep down but it felt like all certainty had been taken from her.

 

Suddenly she feels clumsy. Afraid that she’ll trip all over herself and make a mess of things. She’s afraid because she’s grown unaccustomed to peace, to safety. She’s afraid because she’s never had much use for real, good, or honest things in her personal life but she wants them now. Shaw shot her a proud look as she finished hog tying the agent. She wants that look and the woman giving it to her more than she thinks she’s ever wanted anything.

 

Somehow the nerd ended up with the prom queen and she’s terrified of screwing it up.

 

Shaw cocked her head to the side and stared at her for a moment. “Okay, seriously what’s with you today?”

 

“Nothing,” Root brushed the question aside. I don’t deserve to be this happy. I don’t deserve you. “I just didn’t sleep all that well last night,” She added in the hope that Shaw would leave it alone.

 

“Right,” Shaw didn’t sound convinced. She stood up, leaving her downed opponent in the middle of the hallway and slowly made her way over to Root. “That must be why it took me so long to wake you up this morning.”

 

The Machine steps in with a timely alert. “Patrol’s coming in about thirty seconds,” Root used the approaching men to deflect Shaw’s attention. She drew her weapons as Shaw did the same. They took cover behind the desk Root had been leaning on.

 

“Ten seconds.”

 

Shaw reached out with her free hand and squeezed her arm to get her attention. “Take the time that we’re beating these guy’s asses to come up with a better excuse.”

 

“I’m not…”

 

Shaw scowled, “You are and whatever it is, I can tell you that you are probably over thinking it.” The first guards turned the corner and stumbled over their fallen comrade. Shaw popped up from their cover and opened fire.

 

“How can you be so sure?” Root shouted over the din.

 

“I kind of know you, Root.” With all five hostiles now on the ground clutching various bullet wounds to shoulders and knees, Shaw moved from behind their cover to go and tie them up. “Don’t worry so much. Whatever it is, I’ve got you.”

 

Root wasn’t so sure. They were dancing around the issue again. She knew what the problem was but she also knew Shaw didn’t want to hear it. One day soon Root was going to have to ruin everything and tell Shaw how much she loved her.


	5. Milking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw knows how to use things to her advantage.

_Reese_

 

“Think I’ve got time to run to the bodega on the corner? I’m freaking starving.” Shaw and Reese had been sitting in an old, beat up ford down the street from their current number’s apartment all night. Shaw hadn’t eaten anything since a granola bar she had found mysteriously tucked inside her pocket at around midnight.

 

“He’s usually not out of the apartment before seven forty-five,” Reese noted the time on the dashboard clock, the car was so old that it wasn’t even digital. “You’ve got about half an hour to make a breakfast pickup.”

 

“No need,” Said a voice from beside the car.

 

Shaw turned to see Root standing there dressed in one of her sexy librarian get ups. Short skirt with a fitted blouse tucked in to it, hair back in a tight bun with those thick framed glasses on. She unconsciously licked her lips. Root’s cover for the day must work in an office. She was holding a bright pink bakery box. Shaw quickly worked to roll the window all the way down.

 

“Brought you kids a present,” Root smiled extending the box through Shaw’s now open window.

 

Shaw popped open the lid revealing a dozen assorted doughnuts. “Hello gorgeous.”

 

Root smirked over at Reese, “I remember when she used to sweet talk me like that.”

 

Reese snorted, “Maybe you should try covering yourself in icing.”

 

“Keep your fantasies to yourself, John.” Shaw replied. She looked up at Root and held out the open box, “You want one for the road?”

 

Root smiled, “I’m trying to limit my sugar intake.”

 

“Since when?”

 

“Since Alice Lamarr started working for Nancy Botwell,” She explained. Her number was a bit of a health nut. “The woman has some interesting theories about food additives and a nose like a bloodhound.”

 

“Sucks to be you.”

 

Root smirked and leaned all the way in the window to whisper in her ear, “If you get this wrapped up soon I’ll suck all you want tonight, Sam.” She stood up again before Shaw could reply. Root nodded to Reese, “Lurch.”

 

Reese took the old nickname in stride, “Thanks for breakfast, Root.” She gave him a little wave as she stepped away from the car and started down the sidewalk.

 

“Later Root,” Shaw called out after her, though she kept her eyes on the box in her hands. She fished out a plain glazed to start. Shaw set the box down on the center console and took a big bite out of the doughnut. “Oh god they’re still warm,” She moaned.

 

Reese smiled, “There seem to be unexpected fringe benefits from you shacking up with Root.” He let his hand hover over the pastries. “Oh is that one apple?”

 

Shaw smacked Reese’s hand away with her free hand. “Mine.” She wrapped her arm around the box and pulled it towards her chest.

 

“I thought I heard Root say that those were for everyone in the car.”

 

“No, heard wrong. Root brought these for me, especially the apple one.” She settled the now closed box on her lap. Then she took another big bite from the doughnut she had already liberated from the box.

 

“Come on Shaw you know I worked a double shift yesterday before I met you here.”

 

“Cry me a river,” She mumbled sending a few crumbs skyward.

 

“There are how many other doughnuts in the box?”

 

Shaw made a show of shoving the rest of the first doughnut into her mouth. After chewing exaggeratedly for a few minutes she looked over at him. “Keep whining and you won’t even get one of them.”

 

“You can’t just call dibs on the entire box.”

 

Shaw held up two fingers, “Two words; Stock Exchange. That means I have permanent dibs on every last cruller.”

 

“That’s not…” He sputtered.

 

“Oh, wait, I got a few more. Months of psychological torture. Creepy Greer face. Surgery without anesthesia. Waking up to creepy Greer face.”

 

Reese rolled his eyes, “Can I at least have a chocolate one?”

 

“Depends,” Shaw raised an eyebrow, “With or without sprinkles?”

 

 

_Fusco_

 

Another day another stupid number rescued. Root had suggested going out to celebrate. Harold had waved them off citing the need to monitor Reese on coms as he was still working a mission out of town with Zoe. Fusco had been all for it so Shaw found herself shoved in a cracked leather booth in the back of a tiny sports bar too old to have security cameras. At least the food was decent and the game was on.

 

“How about I go and get everyone a refill?” Root smiled as she stood up from the table. “Another club soda for you, Lionel?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” He mumbled around a mouth full of chips.

 

Root nodded and made her way through the crowd towards the bar. Shaw kept her eyes on the sway of her hips until she shoved between a couple of guys and disappeared from view. “Love to watch her leave huh?”

 

She turned back to Fusco, “Excuse me?”

 

“I don’t blame you. If she was my girl...”

 

“Root is no one’s girl.” You couldn’t claim a force of nature. And now Shaw wanted to stab herself in the eye with a nacho for thinking something so sappy. She settled for stuffing a few in her mouth.

 

“Really?”

 

“Really,” Shaw crunched out.

 

Fusco’s expression turned sly, “You better watch out then Shaw, Fruity Pebbles clearly has the hots for me.”

 

“You cannot be serious.”

 

He leaned forward, “Didn’t hear her asking about your drink order.”

 

Please. “Because she knows what I like.”

 

Fusco hooked his thumb at his chest, “Or maybe she cares more about getting my order right.”

 

Shaw turned her attention back to the game. Shit did the Jets just fumble again? Well, this evening was about to take a turn. “Whatever, Lionel.”

 

“I’m telling you we bonded while you were gone.”

 

Who taught these clowns to tackle? “Uh huh,” She mumbled distractedly. Get on the freaking ball.

 

Fusco leaned back in his seat. “I can’t help it if I have a way with women.”

 

Shaw snorted and brought her eyes back to her companion, “You have a way with women?”

 

Fusco frowned, “I got a kid don’t I?”

 

“The same result could be achieved with a turkey baster and a specimen cup, Lionel.” Shaw leaned across the table to tap the side of his glass. “I wouldn’t call that proof of any seductive powers.”

 

“Doubt all you want. All I’m saying is you’re not the only one who’s planted one on Cuckoo Clock. You don’t watch yourself and I’ll be right there to swoop in.” He clapped his hands together and extended the right one up in an arc. “Just like that.”

 

“Pornographic day dreams don’t count.” She downed the last of her drink. Then she picked up her fork to shovel more nachos from the platter in the middle of the table on to her plate. She hoped Root put in an order for more food. She’d need the energy to deal with Lionel’s insane ramblings.

 

“Ask her.”

 

She looked up from her plate. “Excuse me?”

 

“You don’t believe I kissed her, then ask her.” He pointed to the ceiling, “Better yet ask the eye in the sky, damn thing’s probably got it on video.”

 

“You’re really trying to tell me that while I was presumed dead Root up and decided to make out with you of all people?” Shaw shook her head, “Did John put you up to this?”

 

“What’s wrong with me?” Shaw pointed at the mustard stain on his tie with her fork. He started pulling napkins from the dispenser on the table. “I was in a hurry at lunch.” He dipped a napkin in what was left of his club soda. He then began dabbing fruitlessly at the crusty film on his tie. The bar simultaneously groaned as the Jets threw another interception.

 

“Sure.” She didn’t know who was more hopeless, the team on screen or the guy beside her.

 

“And it was before.”

 

She cocked her head to the side in confusion, “Before?”

 

“Yeah we had our own little moment at the Stock Exchange. The bullets were flying, adrenaline was high…these things happen.” Fusco’s eyes went a little glassy as he remembered it. For a nut bar, Root sure could kiss.

 

Well, Shaw didn’t like that look at all. Time to take the shaggy detective down a peg or eight. “And you remember what happened not long after that?”

 

“Kind of hard to forget it, Shaw,” Fusco replied turning serious for a moment. “One of the worst days of my life.”

 

She grinned, “Awe buddy you do care.”

 

He sucked in his cheeks, “You’re sort of an asshole, you know.”

 

“Asshole that saved your ass.” Shaw stabbed a jalapeno with her fork, “Which is exactly my point.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I died for all of you and then I came back from the dead for her. I’m like a freaking romantic hero. You can’t compete with that, so ditch your delusions of grandeur, Lionel. Root and I are solid. You just can’t compete.”

 

He smirked, “Got you to admit she’s your girl.”

 

She flicked the pepper at him. “Shut up, Lionel.”

 

 

 

 

_Finch_

Shaw twirled Bear’s leash in the air. “Hey Handsome, ready to head out?” Bear rose from his bed and eagerly trotted to her side.

 

Oh this wouldn’t do. “Ms. Shaw, you can’t possibly take Bear again tonight.”

 

That stopped her in her tracks, “Why not?”

 

Finch stood up from his seat and walked over to the pair, “He needs to spend some time at home.” He held his hand out for the leash.

 

Shaw pulled her hand and the leash in it behind her back. “But I was out of town all last week,” She complained rocking back on her heels.

 

“And you took him with you last night.” That should have been more than sufficient.

 

“So?” Obviously not to Ms. Shaw.

 

“So you cannot continue to disrupt his routine.” He motioned for Bear to return to his bed. He went about half the distance before stopping and turning to look back at Finch and Shaw. This was exactly the sort of thing he was talking about.

 

“He’s a dog not a Russian gymnast, Finch.”

 

“It was difficult enough getting him readjusted after your extended stay in the mountains.”

 

“We needed that time! I was gone for months before that, Bear missed me.” She patted her thigh and Bear bounced back to her side.

 

“Be that as it may,” Finch began to argue.

 

“Months Harold, and unlike the rest of you he had no way of knowing if I’d ever be coming back.” She reached down and scratched his head in sympathy at the thought. “For all he knew I had abandoned him. And don’t think I didn’t notice that he’d lost weight. I bet he went all Belgian supermodel on you.”

 

“He may have exhibited some signs of depression.” It was only understandable that their faithful companion would pick up on the sad timbre of the group and on Ms. Shaw’s absence. But she was back now and order had to be restored.

 

“And he hasn’t gained it all back yet,” Shaw pointed out. The dog and Root had that in common.

 

“Surprising given the amount of off plan snacks both you and Ms. Groves have been sneaking him,” Finch scolded her. Did no one understand the tenants of proper canine nutrition?

 

She rolled her eyes. Finch couldn’t say he had overly missed that expression. “So obviously we still need to make up for lost time.”

 

“That’s not how it works.”

 

“Fine,” Shaw huffed. She pointed at Bear, “Then you tell him he can’t go with me.”

 

Finch threw his hands up in exasperation. “Ms. Shaw must you be so juvenile?”

 

“Tell him,” She insisted.

 

Finch stared at the dog standing by Shaw’s knee. Bear tilted his head to the side and looked at him with wide eyes. Finch groaned, “Fine, but just for tonight and don’t feed him any more cheeseburgers.”

 

Shaw glanced down at Bear, “Sounds like someone ratted us out buddy.”

 

“No one needed to.” Finch adjusted his glasses, “Needless to say, do it again and you’ll be cleaning up after him on his walk tomorrow.”

 

 

_Root_

 

 

“Pretty sure I took bullets for you.” Ha! Shaw had this one won.

 

“Pretty sure I basically renounced my god for you.” Root raised an eyebrow, daring Shaw to try and argue with that.

 

She didn’t. Instead she stood frozen, staring into Root’s eyes for several heartbeats. Undeterred, Root squared her shoulders and stared right back.

 

Shaw broke first. “So you’re on top tonight then.”

 

“Yep and for the foreseeable future. Go get the cuffs, Sam.”

 

 

 


	6. Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission improbable...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just silly. I have no excuse.

 

 

“I don’t know why I couldn’t have gone in the boat with Root.” Shaw squinted in the bright afternoon sunshine. She also couldn’t believe she had forgotten her sunglasses.

 

“Need I remind you of the last time you were in a boat for a mission, Ms. Shaw?”

 

“Okay, but that was with John, and it was a rowboat.” She was sure Root, unlike Reese, would have no problem with letting her do all the work. “And you can’t tell me that Lionel and Root make a convincing couple.”

 

“No, but then we have the opposite issue of you and Ms. Groves being too convincing.” He was happy for his friends truly; however they had developed a bad habit of participating in…private activities while on the job. Frankly, he was concerned that they’d tip the boat over in their enthusiasm and drown.

 

Shaw really did not see that as an issue. “Can’t help it that we’re hot Finch.”

 

“Umm yes, however in this instance we are trying not to draw too much attention.”

 

Both of Shaw’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. She knew Finch had cameras on the same scene she was observing from the dock. She raised her binoculars just in time to see the boat in question, a swan-shaped paddle boat, tip ever so slightly to one side. “You really think that isn’t drawing attention?” In fact she was fairly sure that their number and her date, along with everyone else on the lake were all staring at this swiftly unfolding horror show.

 

“It was the only boat left available from the rental station,” He defended himself. “Also I was unaware of Detective Fusco’s penchant for motion sickness when I selected him for this assignment.”

 

“Oh god I’m dying,” Fusco moaned over the coms before the sound of retching took over again.

 

“I told you She said that the taco bus had failed its latest health inspection,” Root gently chided him. “I’m pretty sure this is just plain, old fashioned food poisoning, Harry.”

 

“Perhaps Detective Fusco will make better dietary choices after this experience,” Finch mused. “His cholesterol levels were rather worrying on his last physical.”

 

Fusco choked out, “It was buy one get one free!” Shaw could roll with that logic. Not that she’d ever eat anywhere after receiving a warning from HAL about it, but still, she could see that it had seemed like a good deal up until the puking.

 

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your last meal,” Root teased. Fusco just groaned louder.

 

Shaw adjusted her earwig so she was now speaking on the private channel The Machine had set up for she and Root, “If he tries to kiss you again because he’s at death’s door I’m knocking him out.”

 

“I don’t think the two situations are comparable, Sweetie.”

 

She adjusted her binoculars so she could get a better view of Root’s profile. “Yeah, I don’t care he better keep his lips to himself.”

 

“Jealous, Sam?” Shaw could hear the smile in her voice.

 

“No, it’s just; say he kisses you and then when I kiss you...”

 

“Good to know you’re planning on it when I get back to dry land,” Root interrupted. “I could use a little pick me up after this ordeal.” Honestly, she knew she had done many bad things in the past, but this was the thanks she got from the universe for turning over a new leaf?

 

“When I kiss you it’ll be like I’m indirectly kissing Fusco.”

 

“You should be so lucky, Shaw,” He shouted in the background.

 

“Finally done puking over the side of the widdle paddle boat, Lionel?” She snapped back at him.

 

“Go back to the other line, Sweetie,” Root instructed her. “He can’t hear you.”

 

“Then how did he know I was talking about him kissing you?” Shaw asked instead.

 

“That’s sort of your go-to when yelling at the good detective these days,” Root replied. She lowered her voice, “I can’t tell you how hot it makes me when you get all possessive. The things it makes me want to do to you…”

 

“As illuminating as I’m sure that conversation would be Ms. Groves, I’d rather not be shot by Ms. Shaw because of my overhearing it.”

 

“Harry?” Root squeaked in confusion.

 

“I believe The Machine prematurely switched channels for you and Ms. Shaw.” Root could hear Shaw snickering on the line at his apparent discomfort.

 

“I’ll work with her on that, Harold.”

 

“That would be very much appreciated.” They could hear the click of keys as Finch typed in various commands at his work station. “I fear this situation may be doing more harm than good for our interests. Why don’t you just paddle in Ms. Groves, and you and Ms. Shaw can continue to observe our number from the shore.”

 

“Tried that already. This thing is so off balance that if I’m the only one pedaling we just move in a circle.” It was like drunken swan lake. And making Lionel dizzy on top of the food poisoning had not been the best of ideas. At least he was considerate enough to aim outside of the boat.

 

Shaw chuckled, “It was pretty damn hilarious. All the other boats near them were flailing around to get out of Lionel’s splash zone.” The handful of row and paddle boats on the water were all continuing to give the swan and its occupants a wide berth.

 

“We’ll just have to wait until he gets his second wind and can help me pedal,” Root sighed. She longed for a relevant number. She’d much rather be shot at than this.

 

“This is most inconvenient.”

 

“It aint a party for me either, Glasses,” Fusco managed to growl.

 

“I meant the boat not you, Detective. You cannot help your current situation.”

 

Shaw snorted, “Maybe if he didn’t eat like a starving linebacker.”

 

“You’re one to talk, Tiny.”

 

“You want me to talk? Okay, how about the plate of greasy hash browns and eggs I had for breakfast this morning. The yokes were all runny…” Shaw was interrupted by the sound of Fusco being violently ill over the side of the boat once again.

 

“Thanks for that, Sameen. Truly,” Root groaned.

 

“Don’t start none, won’t be none.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you started that.”

 

“And so I finished it.”

 

“Excuse me Miss; are you with the bird watching group?” A tiny man with the thickest glasses Shaw had ever seen, and she had lived through the 80’s, asked her.

 

“Do I look like I’m with the bird watching group?” Shaw was dressed in her typical black on black on black, pants, tank top, and leather jacket combo. It didn’t exactly scream boring hobbyist.

 

“Why else would you be standing here with binoculars?” Shaw just stared at the man. “Never mind,” He stuttered and wandered away.

 

Ha! Still got it.

 

“Ms. Shaw perhaps you might try and sustain a reasonable cover?”

 

“Since when is it a crime to stand on a public dock with binoculars?” She snapped. She was out here doing her job, sweating her ass off in the sun. Granted, she didn’t have it nearly as bad as Root what with the puking, but still what the hell else did Finch want from her?

 

“I am simply pointing out once again that we should try not to bring undue attention to ourselves while observing our number.”

 

“Pretty sure we lost all hope of that with the swan boat, Harry.” Fusco retched again loudly. Root contemplated shoving him in the lake and putting him out of his misery for a moment. “Or was it at the taco bus?”

 

“Are we certain Detective Fusco doesn’t require medical attention?” The amount of time he had now spent vomiting was quite disconcerting.

 

“Better out than in at this point,” Shaw replied. “He’ll stop eventually. Though we should keep an eye on him for signs of dehydration; I’ll grab him a bottle of Gatorade from the bait shop.”

 

“Oh get me an iced tea,” Root chimed in.

 

“You want me to see if they have any fruit?” Shaw asked as she checked her pockets for cash. “Since you’re not tossing your guts into the lake, I’m assuming you skipped lunch.”

 

“I wasn’t hungry,” She replied. “Good thing too.”

 

“Root, you gotta eat.” The burner phone in her pocket beeped. She pulled it out to see a notification about her new balance through a mobile banking app. She thought she remembered an icon for the mobile payment program on the window of the gift shop as she passed earlier. Shaw shook her head, sometimes Skynet wasn’t half bad.

 

“I eat,” She protested. “As you very well know…”

 

“Boxed breakfast doesn’t count.” It was a hell of a good time, but it would not help Root gain back the weight she’d lost. And now Shaw was considering all the calories they had burned this morning before Root had left to pick up Lionel.

 

“Pretty sure it counted multiple times for someone this morning,” Root fired back.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes though no one could see her doing it, “I’m going to go find you a sandwich or something.” If Root wouldn’t take better care of herself on her own, then it was Shaw’s responsibility to remind her to do it.

 

“Sam, I really do not want to think about food right now.” Fusco’s retching had kicked up in volume. “And every time you mention it Lionel starts up again.”

 

“Can we focus please?” Finch interrupted in his stern, take me seriously now damn it, voice. Shaw wondered if it was as effective with the college kids as it was with them, which was not really.

 

Still she decided to humor him before his head popped off or something. “Look Finch, I’ve got it covered. If anyone else asks me again about what I’m doing out here I’ll just flash my PI credentials.”

 

That brought him up a little short, not that it was a terrible solution just, “When did you get those?”

 

“I have my ways.”

 

“It was through one of those late night infomercials for online university courses. She was really bored up state,” Root cheerfully supplied.

 

“Way to kill the mystery, Root.”

 

“I’m trapped in an embarrassingly tacky paddle boat with a puking Fusco; let me have my fun where I can find it.”

 

“And whose fault is that?”

 

“Harry’s.”

 

“If the two of you could be bothered to keep your hands off of one another for five minutes perhaps I wouldn’t have given Detective Fusco this task.”

 

“Oh Harry, we’re young and love is in the air…”

 

“Anyway,” Shaw interrupted at the mention of the l-word, even as a way to tease Harold it was a little too much to hear from Root’s mouth. It made Shaw’s guts twist in a way she wasn’t sure was good or burn it all down levels of bad. “I’ll flash my credentials and tell them that Lionel is cheating on his wife with Root and I’m tracking the lying bastard for her divorce attorneys.”

 

“Great, I’m the dirty mistress.” Root actually sounded amused.

 

“Would anyone really believe that Detective Fusco was capable of having a wife and a mistress?”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Nice one, Finch!”

 

 

 


	7. Laying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root makes a decision that leads to a confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey Eeyore, back again. Great thing about Eeyore is he's depressing but still made of fluff.

 

 

When she opened her eyes Root did not recognize the ceiling above her. From the strong smell of cleaning products she figured she was in a medical facility. It was dark, night time she figured, though she was unable to confirm on what day. For a fleeting moment she thought about asking The Machine but it was hard to pull her thoughts together enough to vocalize them. It felt like she was underwater. Everything was distorted.

 

She heard a soft snore. She slowly turned her head to the left. There was a figure slumped in a chair. It was hard to focus on them but she felt a tug in her chest that they were there. She blinked and then there was nothing but black.

 

The second time she woke up everything felt easier. The room was dim but not dark. Morning or evening, though she’s still not sure of the day. She blinked and the room remained in focus unlike last time. Progress.

 

“Samantha,” Harold Finch gently called from beside her.

 

“Harry,” She breathed. She turned her head to see him leaning over the left side of her bed.

 

He smiled softly at her, “It’s good to have you back.”

 

“How long?”

 

“It’s been six days since your accident.”

 

Nearly a week spent lying here. Root grimaced as she tried to shift in the bed. The various wires and tubes connected to her body, not to mention her heavily casted leg, made it difficult.

 

Finch reached out to steady her. “You should probably remain still until the doctor can come in and examine you.” He picked up the remote control for the bed and slowly adjusted the angle of where her head and shoulders rested.

 

“Is it safe?”

 

“No one is hunting us,” Finch reassured her. “That being said you are here under an assumed name. Ms. King the FBI agent. It was the simplest way to account for your scars without raising too many questions.”

 

Root nodded. “How bad?” Because to be honest she felt like crap.

 

“They lost you on the table,” Finch looked pale, “Your heart wasn’t quite up to the extensive amount of surgery you required, but obviously the doctors were able to bring you back.”

 

Thank you, Control. Root fidgeted with the rough blanket under her hand. Not that there was any guarantee that she would have fared any better if this had happened before her time spent under the government agent’s tender care. It was certain that it had not helped matters any though.

 

“You took quite a blow to the head. They had to go in and relieve the pressure surgically. It’s the reason why you have been unconscious for so long.”

 

Root tentatively ran her hand along the side of her head. She could feel a patch of short hair just above and behind her left ear. “My scars will almost match.” And undercuts were in these days.

 

He frowned not appreciating the symmetry apparently. “In addition to the head trauma they had to put several pins in your leg,” Finch continued. “The orthopedist also said there will likely be a total knee replacement in your future.”

 

“At this rate I’ll be bionic in no time,” Root joked. She already had the ear after all.

 

“I’m glad someone can see the humor in this situation.”

 

“That’s me, a ray of sunshine.”

 

“Your humor is an acquired taste I’m afraid,” Finch lightly teased.

 

Root grinned, “The number?”

 

He smiled softly. “Mrs. Anderson is fine and back home with her daughter.”

 

Root licked her lips. She worried with a split on her lower one with her tongue for a moment stalling. “Shaw?”

 

“She was left with a few bumps and bruises. And she has been here at your side the entire time.” Root’s mind called up the image of a black-clad figure curled up in the chair just behind Harold. “Mr. Reese finally convinced her to visit the dining facility downstairs for something to eat not that long ago.”

 

She took a deep breath and asked what she really wanted to know, “Is she mad?”

 

“I am certain that is part of what Ms. Shaw is feeling but I must tell you I’ve never quite seen her this way. Frankly, I’ve been worried about the both of you.”

 

“Sorry, Harry.” She wasn’t sorry for what she had done to land her in this bed, but she did feel remorse for any worry she might have caused him.

 

“Just focus on your recovery.” He hit the call button, “Beginning with allowing your doctors to examine you without complaint.”

 

She woke up for the third time to see Shaw standing at the foot of her bed. It was definitely night time now. The overhead light had been turned off and the lights from her monitors washed Shaw’s skin with a green glow.

 

“How could you be so stupid?” She started by way of greeting, her tone was glacial.

 

So Harold was right, she was angry. Root swallowed, that was fine. The fact that Shaw was here to rage at her was worth it. “I can’t do this without you anymore.”

 

Shaw grabbed the foot of her bed in a white knuckled grip. “What’s to say you would have had to?”

 

“The car would have hit you head on, Sameen.” She could still see it. The way the lights had lit up her profile. Shaw pushing their number out of the way, and turning to fire at the car as it barred down on her. Not even flinching as it kept coming. “I didn’t need Her to run the numbers for me to know how that would have turned out.”

 

“So you decided to nearly get yourself killed instead?” Shaw ground out.

 

“I don’t work without you.” That’s all that was going through her mind when she had body checked Shaw out of the way of the car driven by their number’s ex-husband at the last minute. It didn’t matter what happened to her after, as long as Shaw was still standing in the end.

 

“You keep saying that…”

 

“You weren’t here. When Samaritan took you, that’s when I knew. You don’t know what I became…”

 

“You think they didn’t tell me?” Shaw snapped, “You think she didn’t have the video feeds saved on a backup server? I know, Root.” Knowing how much Root had suffered cut deeper than any knife Martine had wielded. They had discussed both sides of the fucked up story of her missing months at Camp Samaritan but never in a whole lot of detail. Shaw got curious one day in the mountains and asked Her about it. When she had watched those videos, especially the one of Root on the rooftop it had felt like the damn blonde bitch was still sticking it to them from beyond the grave.

 

“I’m sorry.” Root hadn’t wanted her to know how weak she had been.

 

Suddenly tired, Shaw sighed and flopped down into the chair beside the bed, “I know.”

 

After a long silence Root glanced at her, “How are you?”

 

“Oh I’m just peachy.”

 

“Sameen,” She sighed in disappointment.

 

“What, Root?” She growled, her anger rising again, “What is it you want me to say?”

 

“I just want to know if you’re alright.” She needed to know. That was the point of everything she had done.

 

Shaw glared at her, “How the fuck could I be alright right now?”

 

Had she been hurt? Had Root failed at this too? She had seemed fine standing there a second ago. “Harold said you only had bumps and bruises.”

 

“I mean here,” Shaw thumped her chest. “Your idiotic move has got me all fucked up in here.” She had hit her head when she hit the pavement. Might have even blacked out for a second or two. When her vision cleared and she saw Root lying there on the ground, bloody and so still, it was like something inside snapped. Shaw’s chest hadn’t felt right since. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want it. She sure as hell didn’t know what to do about it. And now Root didn’t have the goddamn manners to realize that it wasn’t okay to almost get herself killed.

 

“It wasn’t idiotic,” Root argued. “I had to save you.”

 

“I do the protecting.” Shaw thumped her chest again, “I do. Not you.”

 

Root looked away, “And most of the time I’m okay with that.”

 

“Just not this time?”

 

“No, not when you’re the one in danger and I can do something about it.”

 

Why did she have to be so stubborn? “You can’t jump between me and the world, Root. Or have you forgotten what we do for a living?”

 

She closed her eyes and took a breath, “I can’t’ always mitigate the risks when it comes to working the numbers, I know that. But I could control which one of us got hit by that car.”

 

“And I’m supposed to just be okay with it?”

 

“That’s what you’d expect me to do,” Root snapped. She’d done it before to devastating effect and Root was sure she’d do it again if given the opportunity. And she knew next time would ruin her.

 

“Because that’s the way it should be,” Shaw argued. She couldn’t give her all that other crap but Shaw could keep her safe.

 

“No, I refuse to watch you die in front of me again.” Not if she could prevent it.

 

“Root.”

 

“I couldn’t survive that again. Please don’t ask me to.” Root wasn’t above begging.

 

“But you’re basically asking me to?” That was what Root was saying; let me die Shaw, no big deal. She rubbed her chest. It was bullshit.

 

“Don’t you see? You wouldn’t be crippled by the loss, the grief. You are so strong, Sam. Unlike me you could go on.”

 

Shaw couldn’t get enough air. Everything felt tight. It was like her ribs were shattered, shards of bone crushing in on her lungs, even though she knows better seeing as Finch made the doctors examine her while Root was in surgery. “Just because I can doesn’t mean I’d want to.”

 

Confusion washed over Root’s face, “What are you saying?”

 

Shaw exploded, “I don’t want to work without you.” She stood up, knocking the chair over, and began to pace. Root was reminded of a tiger in a cage. “I don’t want to go on without you just because I could.” She spun on her heel and pointed an accusing finger at Root, “Did you ever think of that?”

 

“I…no.” Root fidgeted in bed. It had never even crossed her mind.

 

“I’m not your goddamn robot, Root. You being here or not matters to me.”

 

“Sameen,” Root didn’t know what to say. Shaw couldn’t possibly be saying what Root thought she was saying. The world wasn’t that kind to her.

 

“You matter to me, Root.” Shaw kept pacing. She felt as if every weakness she had was being laid bare for Root to see. She had to keep moving or she’d fly apart. “What have we been doing these past few months?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I want to know what you think this is.” She kept on before Root could answer, “Because if you think that I could watch you die and then turn around and go on as if nothing happened, as if my life wouldn’t be fundamentally changed, then you and I have very different concepts of what our relationship is.”

 

Root gaped at her in stunned disbelief. “I’m sorry,” She finally managed.

 

Shaw stopped moving but she didn’t look at her. She kept her eyes on the heart monitor just to the side of the bed instead. “Are you apologizing for being a dumbass, because let me tell you…”

 

Root cut her off, “I’m sorry for scaring you.” Shaw snorted dismissively at that. “I’m sorry for underestimating you. I’m sorry for making assumptions and letting fear keep me from telling you how much you mean to me.” She took a deep breath, “I love you.” There it was out in the open.

 

Shaw’s shoulders slumped, all the fight going out of her. “I know, Root.” She finally looked at her, there was something Root couldn’t quite figure out in her eyes, but to her relief it didn’t look like anger or hurt. “You don’t have to say it for me to know. It’s bigger than saying some words.”

 

Root sniffed, relief and joy threatening to make her weep, “Yeah, it is.”

 

“I’m still pissed at you for getting hit by that car,” Though now that she said that aloud it sounded pretty stupid. Ugh this was why Shaw hated this feelings crap. She always looked like a moron when she tried to talk about them. She rolled her eyes at herself for it.

 

“Can you be pissed at me a little closer?” Root held her hand out to Shaw, who reluctantly sidled up to the bed and took it. She did cry a little then. If ever asked she was totally going to blame it on the painkillers.

 

Shaw let her have a moment to collect herself. She stood staring out the window past Root’s bed as the sky started to purple with the approach of morning. “I wish I could feel it the way that you do, sometimes,” She said so softly Root almost didn’t hear her, “You deserve somebody like that.”

 

“What I have is already so much more than I could ever deserve,” Root replied with conviction and squeezed her hand. The corner of Shaw’s mouth curled up into the slightest imitation of a grin.

 

After about five minutes Shaw rolled her eyes, “God, we are so lame.”

 

“Good thing we have each other huh?”

 

“Yeah, Root. Good thing.”

 


	8. Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw's not having the best day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all glorious beautiful cinnamon rolls as the kids say. I was nervous about the last chapter. I wanted to have them talk about their feelings and was concerned it might be too much on Shaw's part especially, but goodness it seemed to click with you guys. So that was a nice holiday gift from all of you to me.  
> We're in the home stretch now. It's all downhill from here. Kidding. Mostly. Nah the girls will be fine, it's like Fluff-mas! (With bonus kneecappings)

Root rolled over with a groan, the ring of her cell phone shattering the silence of her apartment. “Hello,” She mumbled still not completely coherent.

 

“Ms. Groves, were you sleeping?”

 

Root turned to glance at the alarm clock on Shaw’s side of the bed. “It is what most people do at 12:05 on a weeknight, Harry,” She grumpily replied. Not that she was often in bed this early. Well, not to sleep that is.

 

“Oh right,” Finch sighed. “I’m sorry to wake you but we have a situation.”

 

Root sat straight up, “Is Sameen okay?”

 

“There was a small explosion at her number’s office. I haven’t been able to reach her on coms since. I also tried her cell phone to no avail.”

 

“It’s here,” Root replied. Still plugged in to the charger where Shaw had forgotten to grab it this morning after Root had distracted her into being forty five minutes late to go and meet Reese. “She left it here this morning.”

 

“Oh dear,” Finch croaked.

 

Before Root could begin to really panic, The Machine chimed in to let her know that Shaw had indeed made it out of the building alive. “Thank you,” She breathed.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“She’s okay,” Root replied. “The Machine knows where she is.” Root stood up and went to the closet to grab a pair of jeans. “I’ll go track her down.”

 

“There’s no need,” Finch began. They had all tried to keep Root’s work load light since her accident. “I can call Mr. Reese.”

 

“Harry, I’m fine. I’m sure you have your reasons for not calling him to begin with.” Most likely because Detective Riley had worked several double shifts recently on top of his work with the numbers, which had increased as well with Root not being at one hundred percent. He needed the break and Finch knew it. “Besides I’m already awake. If I don’t go look for her I’ll just sit here and worry.”

 

“But you just said that The Machine had told you Ms. Shaw was safe.”

 

“Sure for now. But I really don’t care to think about the trouble she could get herself into on her own without a way to contact either of us do you?”

 

“True, especially given that she was already injured…” Finch abruptly stopped talking as if realizing he had just said something he shouldn’t have.

 

Root scowled, “Injured how?”

 

Meanwhile across town, Shaw shoved her number in the middle of his back to keep him moving. Patrick Flannery was a local slum lord and one or more disgruntled residents of his not so fine establishments had decided to kill him. She had just barely managed to pull his ass through his office window before his building exploded. Singed the sleeve of her favorite leather jacket in the process too.

 

“This is kidnapping. I’ll sue.” Not that Shaw could really blame anyone for wanting this guy dead.

 

She just had to make it a few more blocks with Flannery and then she could stash him at a safe house and give Lionel a call to anonymously tip the police off about the not so accidental fire. If they started looking now they were bound to find something to lead them to the perpetrators. And the sooner that happened the sooner Shaw could go home to her own bed and put this crappy day behind her.

 

Things had started out fine. Better than fine actually, with Root treating her to a little breakfast in bed. Actual breakfast, homemade French toast, Root had gotten hooked on cooking shows while she was recovering from her accident. Shaw was more than happy to reap the benefits of her new hobby. And then when she had finished her breakfast she had been sure to tip her waitress thoroughly, twice in fact.

 

But that had made her forty five minutes late to meet John and that’s where her day had decided to take a nosedive. First, he gave her shit for being late. No big deal she simply reminded him that at least when she was late it was because she was getting laid. That actually shut him up for about five minutes. Then he started asking when she was going to let Root put a ring on it. Finch had even chimed in over the coms with recommendations for jewelers. She threatened to shoot them both.

 

Then she realized that she’d left her phone at home. No problem, she’d just swing by the apartment later and pick it up. Except she and Reese had had to track their number out to his grandmother’s place in Queens and then back halfway across the city when he went to meet his girlfriend. Which again no big deal except for the fact that the guys he had ratted out to the police had been watching her.

 

So then she may have gotten a tiny bit stabbed. Better her than the number. The cut wasn’t that deep. Didn’t hit any vital structures. It did sting like a bitch though. She had sworn the boys to secrecy, as well as glaring into every security camera as she and Reese walked back to the station. Not that she’d be able to hide the injury from Root for long, but she just wanted to be at home before she told her. That way Root could see for herself how not a big deal it was and she wouldn’t freak out about it.

 

In fact she was about to head home after patching herself up at the station when Flannery’s number had come in. Reese had offered to take it but she could see he was dead on his feet. “Go home,” She’d told him.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah, I can sit in the car until Lionel gets off shift and can relieve me. It’ll be fine. Nothing ever happens right away with these things ya know?” Except someone had to go and try to blow up Flannery within five hours of their getting his number and to top it off she was pretty sure she’d popped a stitch dragging him out of harm’s way earlier. “Root’s gonna kill me,” She muttered to herself.

 

“You can’t keep me against my will, it’s false imprisonment,” Flannery continued to rant. That seemed to be all he was good at. Well that, and giving Shaw a headache.

 

“And if you keep talking you’ll have a case for assault charges too.” Shaw shoved him again.

 

Flannery stopped and turned to face her. He squared his shoulders and straightened his back to stand at his full height, towering over her, “Do you have any idea who I am? What I could do to you?”

 

“You’re a greedy coward who thinks he can treat people like shit just because of a few zeros in your bank account,” Shaw fired back. Her left leg shot out and hooked the back of his calf causing him to fall hard to the ground. She leaned over him, “And if you keep testing me I’m going to forget the part where you should be left alive to face a jury and do whoever is trying to kill you a favor.”

 

“Fucking bitch,” Flannery growled from his back.

 

“Hey Lady, is that guy bothering you?” Shaw turned to see a college-age looking kid in dress pants and an undershirt sitting on a stoop just ahead watching them. The kid stood up as if he were going to come over and help her out if she said the word. That was the last thing she needed.

 

“Other way round kid,” Shaw replied. She pulled aside her jacket to reveal the butt of her gun where it was tucked into the waistband of her pants.

 

The kid held up his hands, “Woah, respect.”

 

Shaw nodded, “But thanks for checking.”

 

“No problem,” The kid settled back on to the stoop and went back to enjoying his late night snack.

 

That snack caught Shaw’s attention. She had had to skip dinner to watch this fool adding to her awful day. “Are those onion rings?”

 

“Is this really the time to be asking about food?”

 

“Shut up a minute.” Shaw turned her head to snap at Flannery. She made sure to make a show of resting her hand on the butt of her gun. Once she was sure he wouldn’t speak again she focused back on the kid, “Seriously, those look delicious.”

 

“You want one?” The kid held out the bag.

 

“Thanks,” Shaw replied reaching for one of the fried goodies. “Oh my god,” She moaned after taking her first bite.

 

“Awesome, right?” He smiled as he popped a smaller sized one in his mouth whole.

 

“Is that cayenne I taste? And they’re so crunchy! Panko and cornmeal breading?”

 

He shrugged, “The truck is down the block and just around the corner if you want to go ask. They usually stay open till around three as long as they don’t run out of food.” He had made decent enough tips at his job in a restaurant up town to splurge on a bag tonight.

 

“Nice,” Shaw grinned. She glanced around, zeroing in on a dumpster in the alleyway about ten feet from their position. “Hey if I leave this dude behind that dumpster for a sec could you keep an eye on him? There’ll be another bag of onion rings in it for you.”

 

“Make it a burger and you’ve got a deal.”

 

Shaw looked the kid up and down, “What’s your name?”

 

To his credit he didn’t wilt under the scrutiny, “Tyrell.”

 

“What do you want on your burger, Tyrell?”

 

“Someone just tried to blow me up,” Flannery complained. “You can’t just leave me here.”

 

“Can and will asshole,” Shaw sneered. If it wasn’t one thing it was another with this guy, leave me alone, don’t leave me. He needed to make up his damn mind. And really she had seen, and caused for that matter, much bigger explosions. Whoever was trying to kill him was clearly an amateur. She highly doubted they were being followed at the moment. “Now shut up and let the man give me his burger order or I’ll wring your neck and leave you in the dumpster.”

 

Thankfully, Flannery did as he was told and sat quietly while she cuffed him to the dumpster. She gagged him for good measure though. No sense in making the kid have to listen to his whining. Shaw figured she’d be down the block and back with food in hand in no more than twenty minutes. No muss, no fuss. She had walked about halfway when a man in a ratty hoodie stepped out of an alleyway and confronted her.

 

“Gimme all your money.”

 

“You have got to be kidding me.” How did this day keep getting more and more annoying?

 

The man waved his gun at her. The idiot was holding it sideways. “I didn’t stutter lady, give me your money.”

 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose; this crap was not helping her headache. “Okay how about you go back the way you came before I have to hurt you.”

 

He laughed, “You hurt me? Who has the gun here, Sweetheart?”

 

She glanced towards the sky. Something or someone out there was testing her, she was sure of it. She darted forward, wrapping her hands around his wrist and twisting the gun away from her body. He was so stunned at her movements that he barely reacted other than releasing a startled yelp. The right amount of pressure applied to his thumb and Shaw was stepping back with his weapon in her hand.

 

Shaw held up his gun, “Looks like I do.” She pulled her own gun from the waistband of her pants, “And what do you know; now it has a friend.” She pointed both guns at his chest.

 

He held up his hands and started to back down the alleyway. “Look I don’t want any trouble.”

 

Shaw followed him. “That’s too bad because I’ve sort of had a crappy day. And you see all I wanted was a snack but your amateur ass decided to be a pain in mine.” She clicked the safety on both guns, “That sounds like trouble to me.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, “Are you really? Because I don’t know if I believe you.”

 

“But I am. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Hmm,” Shaw fired her gun hitting his knee. The suppressor on the barrel made sure nothing but his pained yelp was heard in the surrounding buildings. “Now, I believe you.” Not that he heard her as he rolled around on the ground clutching his injured leg.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes as she tucked his gun down the back of her pants. “First of all, if you’re going to rob somebody, don’t hold your gun like you’re idiot number three in a Michael Bay movie.” She stuck her gun into her coat pocket and stomped away. The damn truck better not be out of food or she’d be back to put a bullet in his other leg.

 

“Hey, Shaw,” Root whispered into her ear fifteen minutes later as she waited by the truck for her order. “What ya doing?” She slipped her arms around Shaw’s waist, fingers slotting together over her abdomen, and tucked her chin over her shoulder.

 

Shaw flinched just slightly when Root’s arm pressed against her injured side but she tried to play it off as annoyance, “Do you molest all the girls waiting in line for food?”

 

“Just the cute, grumpy ones,” Root replied. She smiled at Shaw as she switched on her mic again. “I found her, Harry.”

 

“Oh excellent. Unharmed I hope?”

 

“A little mouthy, but beautiful as ever,” Root teased, as Shaw rolled her eyes. She let go and stepped back not wanting to push Shaw’s PDA limit just yet. “And apparently having a little midnight snack?”

 

Shaw nodded, “If I knew you were coming by I would have ordered more.”

 

“No problem. I’ll just steal a bite of yours.”

 

“Ms. Groves, need I remind you why exactly you were sent to find Ms. Shaw?”

 

“Oh right.” She poked Shaw’s arm, “You haven’t been picking up on coms.”

 

Shaw reached up and checked her ear. “Damn earpiece must have fallen out when I was pulling my guy’s ass out of the building earlier.” She rolled her eyes. She should have known Finch was being far too quiet, and she just knew she’d be getting a lecture about lost equipment from him later. This day was cursed. “There was a fire; we had to go through the window.”

 

“We know, Sweetie.” Root bit her lip, “You had Harold a little worried.”

 

“Well, I didn’t mean to worry Harold,” Shaw replied stressing the name. Damn it, she tries to not worry Root and just ends up worrying Root, and Finch.

 

Root dug around in her jacket pocket, “Good thing I always carry a spare.” She held out a new earwig to Shaw. “Like the Girl Scouts taught me, always be prepared.”

 

Shaw snorted, “There is no way in hell they ever let you be a Girl Scout.”

 

“What? It totally counts if I stole a Scout Master’s uniform one time,” She replied.

 

Shaw considered it as she popped the new device into her ear, “You still got that thing?”

 

“Why? You looking to buy some of my cookies, Sweetie?” Root ran her hand down Shaw’s arm. “They don’t come cheap but I’m sure we could work out something in trade.”

 

Shaw shook her head, “Sorry about the radio silence, Finch.”

 

“I’m just glad you are alright, Ms. Shaw.”

 

“Never better.” That was mostly true. Mostly.

 

“Number five oh five?” The guy at the window called out.

 

Shaw grinned at Root, “Be right back.” She shoved her way through the small crowd circling the truck waiting for their orders.

 

Root smiled as she saw the man in the window hand Shaw a bag that was easily three times the size of what anyone else around the truck had been carrying. Shaw eagerly opened the bag and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. In a flash she had the wrapper off and was taking a big bite. Root sighed, “I wish she’d go after me with that sort of enthusiasm.”

 

“What was that?” Finch asked. Root had forgotten her mic was still on.

 

“Nothing important,” She replied, eyes still on Shaw. She winked when Shaw caught her watching. Honestly, the woman was too adorable. “Were you planning on inviting a small family of orphans over for dinner, Sweetie?” Root asked when Shaw stood beside her once again.

 

“Dinner?” Finch asked in confusion. “Wait, where are you? And where’s Mr. Flannery?”

 

“Cuffed to a dumpster couple streets over,” Shaw mumbled around a mouthful of burger. She had eaten most of her first one in the ten foot walk between the truck and where she had left Root waiting. “Don’t worry I gagged him with his tie before I left.”

 

“You left the number to make a burger run?” Finch sputtered.

 

“I had to jump out of a burning building with an idiot. I needed protein.” Shaw dug around in the bag, “Plus this day has been shit and this truck has the best onion rings I’ve ever eaten.” She held one out to Root. She took the bit of fried food with a small smile. Her eyes widened when she took a bite. “Right?” Shaw asked her with a smirk.

 

Root held a hand up to her mouth, “Pretty sure the stop was worth it, Harry.”

 

“I believe Ms. Shaw’s ridiculous fascination with food has rubbed off on you Ms. Groves.”

 

“Something was bound to eventually given all the rubbing we do,” Root quipped.

 

“Ah…well…” Finch stammered. There was a clack of porcelain as he bobbled his cup of tea.

 

“It’s adorable how flustered you get, Harry,” Shaw added just to mess with him. Honestly, it was far too easy for a guy who was actually engaged once.

 

“It is clear the universe is testing me by placing the two of you together,” He muttered indignantly.

 

“Awe Harry you love us,” Root replied. “Your life would be so boring if it were only you and Lurch around. And just what would become of you when the day comes that he finally finds his beanstalk and climbs home again?”

 

“I believe I’ll leave the two of you to your own devices for the moment,” Finch replied, voice dripping with disdain. “Contact me when you have secured Mr. Flannery.” The line cut off abruptly.

 

Root smirked at Shaw, “I shouldn’t have mentioned Lurch going to find his fellow giants in the sky; Harry is so sensitive about it.”

 

“Nerd,” Shaw mumbled through a mouth full of food. She held the bag out for Root to grab another onion ring. She grabbed two with a smile, warmed as always that Shaw would share her food with her.

 

“How’s the leg?” Shaw asked as they started the walk back to where she had stashed Flannery.

 

“It’s fine, Sam.”

 

“I know you had physio this afternoon and now tracking me down out here,” She hedged. Root had to be tired.

 

“I promise I would tell you if it were bothering me.” Root grinned at her, “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to a massage once we get your number squared away.”

 

“Done.”

 

“How’s the side?”

 

Shaw stumbled, “What?”

 

“Harry may have let it slip about the stabbing.”

 

“Damn it.”

 

Root nodded, “Funny thing, he thought you might not have been planning to tell me.”

 

Shaw stopped walking. “Look, Root it’s no big deal. I just wanted to tell you in person so you wouldn’t think it was worse than it really is and worry. But then I got this idiot number…”

 

“Sam,” Root sighed. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to worry either way. I’d rather you told me and not corral our friends into lying about it.”

 

“Who lied? Finch folded like a cake in the rain apparently,” She huffed.

 

“Sameen.”

 

“Fine. You want to go around worried every time I get a papercut, then I’ll tell you from now on.”

 

“Thank you.” They started walking again. Shaw finished off the first bag of onion rings and decided to hold off on the rest of her food for a bit.

 

Shaw placed her hand on the small of Root’s back as they neared the alleyway where she had left her would be mugger. Root shook her head, “You don’t have to suddenly get handsy. I’m not planning on holding a grudge.”

 

“What?” Shaw frowned. “The sidewalk looks slippery. Just didn’t want you to fall and bust your bony ass.”

 

“Uh huh,” Root smiled. She glanced at her feet; the concrete below them was bone dry. “Sure, Sameen.” She canted her head to the side. “Did you hear that?”

 

“No,” Shaw lied. It sounded like the idiot hadn’t managed to drag himself out of the alley yet. She tried to hurry Root along.

 

But Root actually stopped walking, “It sounded like a moan.”

 

“Probably a cat or something,” Shaw replied. “If something was up The Machine would tell you. Come on we should get going, number to keep safe and all.”

 

“Right, like she told me about the stabbing.” Root shook her head but started to walk again.

 

Shaw groaned; she knew Root wouldn’t let it go that easily. “I told you, we didn’t want you to worry.”

 

“Oh you and The Machine are a we now?”

 

Shaw smirked, “Don’t be jealous.”

 

“Ha, ha!” Root scoffed, “I think I liked it better when you barely tolerated Her.”

 

“Excuse me for making nice with your side piece,” Shaw replied.

 

“Pretty sure I was with her first, doesn’t that make you the side chick?”

 

“Oh I am no one’s side chick,” Shaw shook her head.

 

“True,” Root smiled. She hooked her left arm through Shaw’s right. “I’d totally take you home to meet my mama. If she were still alive that is.”

 

“Only because you can’t figure out how to build a body for your other girlfriend,” Shaw quipped. Root did a little skip at the term girlfriend. “And I might consider taking you to meet mine. If she knew I was still alive that is.”

 

“You’d let me meet your mom?” Root practically vibrated with excitement at the thought.

 

Shaw shrugged, “Eh it would make her happy to know that I’m not hanging out alone in a basement somewhere plotting to kill people.”

 

“Uh Sweetie, you kind of do hang out in a basement plotting to kill people. Well, at least maim them.”

 

“Bad people, in a subway, and I’m not alone when I do it.”

 

Root laughed, “As much as I love this impromptu dinner date and moonlit stroll, how about I go grab us a ride?” She nodded towards a large SUV parked about halfway down the block. “I need to get you home and finish what I started this morning.”

 

“Works for me,” Shaw swallowed. “I’ll uh…go get Flannery.”

 

“Meet you in a few then.” Root broke away from her and moved towards the vehicle.

 

Shaw spared a thought for her mother as she walked down the sidewalk. She wondered if she really would be happy for her. She was alive so that was starting out with a plus. Her job wasn’t exactly every mother’s dream but Shaw liked it and she got to help people. How many people could say that really?

 

And there was Root. Shaw thought her mother would like her. Well, as long as they didn’t tell her about the former assassin thing. Or the taser thing. They’d tell her that Root worked in IT, like at a startup. She’d say she met Shaw through a mutual friend. This would also make her mother happy because it would mean that Shaw had friends. Oh and a dog. They could show her pictures of Bear. Everyone loves Bear. Maybe they’d take her to dinner and Root would do her people hacking stick and convince her mother she was a well-adjusted member of society.

 

Shaw frowned at herself. This was stupid. Root was never going to meet her mother. She sighed; she’d probably never even see her again. “Stupid day making me all weird.” There was no point in thinking about things that were never going to happen. But at least her mother was safe. Shaw could rest easy knowing that. Well, whenever this stupid day was over and she could actually rest that is.

 

Shaw found Tyrell sitting on the stoop right where she left him. He looked up with a smile, “You find the truck okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Shaw nodded towards the dumpster and Flannery, “He give you any trouble?”

 

“Nah, I think you scared him enough before you left. He didn’t even twitch while you were gone.”

 

Shaw dug around in the sack for his food. When she found it she tossed the wrapped burger towards him. “One double with the works as promised.”

 

“Nice doing business with you.” Tyrell caught the flying sandwich with one hand.

 

“Thanks for the recommendation,” Shaw replied, holding up the bag with the rest of her food. She heard a car pull up behind them.

 

“Making new friends, Sweetie?” Root called from the window of a black escalade.            

 

“Root this is Tyrell. We’re just wrapping up some business. Tyrell, that’s Root.”

 

Root waved, “Hi.” She left the motor running but hopped out of the car to go get their number while Shaw finished up with Tyrell.

 

“Oh it’s like that?” Tyrell smiled at Shaw after giving Root the once over.

 

She watched as Root bent over to uncuff Flannery. Okay, maybe this day hadn’t turned out that bad. “Just like that,” Shaw smirked.

 

“Like I said before, respect.”

 


	9. Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Machine is always watching.

 

Call Log 200611

 

Analogue Interface: So there were four of them. Three with handguns and the other one had a military grade shotgun.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Am I going to have to pick buckshot out of your ass later?

 

Analogue Interface: You insult me, Sameen.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: You forget I was there the last time you got caught on the wrong end of a shotgun.

 

Analogue Interface: And you seem to have forgotten that the reason I got tagged that time was very much to do with where you had your hands. Ironic since one of my hands is heading in that direction right now.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: (Coughing)

 

Accessing traffic camera. Zooming in on Primary Asset Shaw’s position. Primary Asset Shaw is alone and holding stationary in front seat of surveillance vehicle.

 

Zooming in... Zooming in... Primary Asset Shaw’s pupils dilated.

 

Cross-referencing archival video data. The same symptom has been exhibited before primarily in proximity to Analogue Interface. Four additional occurrences documented when concussed and twelve occurrences in the presence of a sandwich.

 

Primary Asset Shaw has not engaged in physical combat or any activity resulting in head trauma in the past twenty four hours. In addition there is no food present in the surveillance vehicle.

 

Conclusion: Primary Asset Shaw is aroused. No medical intervention required.

 

 

Call Log 2008492

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Can you pick up some milk on the way home? Pretty sure what’s left in the fridge is out of date.

 

Accessing video file from remote unit camera. Kitchen, two days prior 08:13:22. Zooming in… Zooming in… Sell by date on milk carton has been exceeded by five days.

 

Analogue Interface: I don’t know how long I’ll be, Sweetie. These guys aren’t exactly cooperating.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: You need me over there?

 

Analogue Interface: I always need you.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: For backup, Nerd.

 

Analogue Interface: (Laughter)

 

Sound of gunfire. Vityaz-SN held by hostile standing north east of Analogue Interface. Transmitting data for flanking maneuver to Analogue Interface.

 

Analogue Interface: You have to stay with your number until the big guy gets away from his day job to take over.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: I don’t get why he’s still playing cops and robbers.

 

Analogue Interface: He likes it.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Imagine that, a cover identity that someone actually liked.

 

Analogue Interface: I liked the makeover.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: (Growls.)

 

Analogue Interface: That little, sleeveless dress they made you wear made your ass look amazing.

 

Sound of gunfire. Two hostiles down.

 

Analogue Interface: What about your number?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: I haven’t really checked out his ass, Root.

 

Analogue Interface: No, you’re in his apartment, does he have any milk?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Steal his milk?

 

Analogue Interface: Why not? He’s stolen how much money from his boss? Not like he can’t afford to go and buy more.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Genius. Wonder if he has any beer, while I’m at it.

 

Primary Asset Shaw moving out of the living area and camera range.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Damn it.

 

Analogue Interface: What?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Soy milk. Plus I’ve never seen so much kale in my life. This guy is a thief and a hippy.

 

Number Alfred Wright’s odds of survival have decreased 2.00497%

 

Milk added to grocery list. Transferring list to delivery service. Texting confirmation information to Primary Asset Shaw’s cell phone.

 

 

Call Log 2015505

 

Primary Asset Reese: They’ve brought help.

 

Admin: Can you see a way out of there Mr. Reese?

 

Primary Asset Reese: Not at the moment. At least not without getting Ms. Grayson in a bad way.

 

Admin: Is there really any way this could get any worse for her?

 

Primary Asset Reese: A body without bullet holes is almost always better than one with them.

 

Admin: Yes, I see your point.

 

Sound of gunfire. Various small arms.

 

Accessing Second National Bank security camera. Van with Pennsylvania registration. Van reported as stolen one week ago. Seven hostiles exiting.

 

Calculating Asset Reese’s survival rate without assistance… Result untenable.

 

Contacting Analogue Interface. No response. Reattempting. No response. Reattempting…

 

Analogue Interface: I hear you.

 

Assistance needed for Asset Reese’s extraction. Immediate response necessary.

 

Analogue Interface: We’ll be out the door in three.

 

Sending coordinates to cell phone.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: (Muffled) Are you serious?

 

Analogue Interface: Sorry, Sweetie. We’ll pick this up later.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: This is the fourth time this week we’ve been interrupted. I’m going to find your damn robot and unplug it for good.

 

Analogue Interface: John’s in danger.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Fine, after we save his ass, I’ll unplug him too.

 

Fourth mention of Primary Asset Shaw’s wish for our destruction in this seven day period.

 

Eighteenth mention overall this month.

 

15% decrease from this period last month.

 

Progress noted.

 

 

Call Log 2043004

 

Primary Asset Shaw: What does a thirteen year old girl even want for their birthday?

 

Primary Asset Reese: Weren’t you one once? Shouldn’t you be able to guess at least?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Yeah, because I was so normal.

 

Primary Asset Reese: What about Root?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: I can’t believe you just asked that.

 

Sounds of Gunfire. Various small arms.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: And she started talking about computer parts.

 

Primary Asset Reese: What about makeup? Girls start to like makeup around that age right?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: The fact that you’re clinging to stereotypical gender roles is sad and alarming.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: (Grunts)

 

Accessing security camera Mike’s Pizza: alleyway door. Hostile crashes through second story window of adjacent building. Tracking… Hostile has landed in dumpster. Hostile neutralized.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: And there is no way in hell I am going near a makeup counter ever again. I’ve got some weird PTSD about perfume samples now.

 

Primary Asset Reese: Why don’t you just ask Gen what she wants?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: I did and she said the visit was enough.

 

Sounds of Gunfire. USP compact. Remaining hostiles neutralized.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: North stairwell is clear.

 

Primary Asset Reese: Okay, I’ll bring Dalloway down now.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: I’ll meet you with the van in three.

 

Primary Asset Reese: So why are you asking about gifts if Gen told you just getting to visit for the break was enough?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Uh because that’s a lame present?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: (Heavy Breathing)

 

Primary Asset Shaw: And I missed it last year obviously.

 

Admin: I’ve found a good book always makes a lovely gift.

 

Primary Asset Reese: What about her Friendster page? Maybe she said something about what she’d want on there?

 

Primary Asset Shaw: You’re smarter than you look, John.

 

Scanning Genrika Zhirova’s Friendster page. Determining key phrases. Cross-referencing 4,000 archived articles on proper gift giving. Analyzing...

 

Sending recommendation to Primary Asset Shaw’s phone.

 

Primary Asset Shaw: Hey John, you ever heard of the International Spy Museum?

 


	10. French

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are they having dinner?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in doing my research (re-watching episodes, and a bunch fanvids on youtube, the life of a fic writer is hard yo) I couldn't nail down a couple of dates in canon. So instead when they are mentioned here I went with the original U.S. episode air dates. Now if one of you brilliant people out there knows of a date in show canon that exists for these events hit me up in the comments and I will edit accordingly.

 

 

“Well don’t you look delectable,” Root licked her lips. Shaw was wearing a killer halter necked dress, black of course. It fell to about mid-thigh leaving the majority of her legs bare. Her hair was down and Root’s fingers were itching to tangle in it. Every eye in the room had been on her as she made her way to the table. And she’s here for me. Root stood with a smile and pulled Shaw’s chair out for her.

 

“Did you finally snap and kill John or something?” Shaw whispered in her ear before she sat down.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re doing the polite, chair thing. Why are you trying to suck up?”

 

Root canted her head, “Can’t I just treat my lady like a lady after she’s been out of town for a week?”

 

“Sure, Root.” Shaw shook her head. Something had to be up.

 

“Now that your guest has arrived would you care to order any wine?” The waiter asked in French as he appeared at Root’s elbow.

 

“A bottle of the house red. Bring out the canapes and the steak tartare for the starters,” Root replied also in flawless French.

 

“Since when do you speak French?” Shaw asked once they were alone.

 

“I forgot you missed out on my au pair phase while you were off playing with Tomas.”

 

Her tone was light but Shaw knew Root well enough to skip right past her mention of the charming thief. She wouldn’t be surprised if Root put a bullet or three in him should they ever cross paths again. “You learned an entire language for a job?”

 

Root shrugged her shoulders, “People do it all the time.”

 

“Yeah, but for like actual jobs.” Shaw found the breadbasket. She pulled out a breadstick and twirled it between her fingers like her favorite knife before taking a bite. “Not a wild weekend that ends in a kneecapping.”

 

“Didn’t get to do much kneecapping on that job,” Root pursed her lips. She didn’t like to think too much about it seeing as it was right around the time everything went south.

 

Shaw waved the breadstick in the air, “Then what was the point of learning French?”

 

“Well, maybe you’ll let me talk you out of that dress in it later.”

 

“I guess I could see the appeal,” Shaw tapped her chin as if considering it.

 

“Oh I’m sure you will by the time I’m through.”

 

“We’ll need to get things going here if you expect to be getting me out of this dress any time soon.” Shaw scanned the tables around them. “So who’s the number?” It was probably that bald guy. He looked a little squirrely, and his dinner companion looked about two decades too young for him. Wife’s probably trying to off him for humping the babysitter.

 

Root frowned in confusion, “Wait, I thought this was your job? Didn’t Harold give you the information when you got in from the airport?”

 

“No, this is your job,” Shaw pointed what was left of her breadstick accusingly at her. “A driver met me at the airport with this dress and brought me here.” He had dropped Root’s name so she had of course assumed that she had sent him to pick her up for a mission. He and the car were supposed to be waiting out front for when they finished the job. He better not have drove off and stolen her stuff.

 

“I don’t have a number, Sweetie. She texted me with the dinner reservation and only the dinner reservation an hour ago. I got here five minutes before you did.”

 

“Wait, you’re not,” Shaw grimaced, “You’re not saying The Machine parent trapped us?”

 

“I don’t have a number, and you’re telling me that you don’t either,” Root replied as if this wasn’t the weirdest thing ever.

 

“There must be a reason why we’re here.”

 

Root shrugged her shoulders, “Maybe She just wanted us to have a nice dinner?”

 

“Because that’s not creepy or anything…”

 

“Well, what other motive would She have for setting this up?”

 

“A number.” Shaw lowered her voice, “There must be some idiot in danger here. She doesn’t always give you all the details right away you know?”

 

“Yes, I’m aware,” Root replied. “But she would have told me if this was about a number by now.”

 

“Then I go back to my earlier statement that this is just creepy.”

 

Suddenly Root’s face broke out into one of her manic grins, “Oh I bet she’s treating us for our anniversary.”

 

“But we met on February 21.”

 

Root bounced in her seat, “You remember the day we met?”

 

Shaw scowled, “Sort of hard not to. My employers were trying to kill me, the closest thing I had to a friend was dead, and some psycho strapped me to a chair and threatened to do her laundry on my face.”

 

“Ah memories,” Root sighed. “And I never would have started with your face, that’s just rude.” She tapped her fingers on the table. Shaw noted that she was back to using the black polish. She must not have had much undercover work to do while she was out of town. “I’m still a little miffed those government boys interrupted us before we could really get started.”

 

“They paid for it,” Shaw smirked.

 

The waiter came and poured a glass of wine for each of them before leaving the bottle on a stand beside the table. “Your appetizers will be out shortly.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes as he walked away, “I still don’t get the point of everything being in French. You know that guy is probably from Chelsea.”

 

“Not with that haircut,” Root quipped. “And it’s about the ambiance.”

 

“The stupid haircut?” She took a sip of her wine and sat back with a grin. Root did know how to order the good stuff.

 

“The French,” Root chuckled. “Though I must say I’m surprised you don’t speak it given your work history.”

 

Shaw shrugged her shoulders, “Yeah, there was never a lot of demand for me to do what I do best in France, go figure.”

 

“Maybe we could take a trip there someday. Take in the art. Go on a wine tour.”

 

“Be bored out of our minds,” Shaw deadpanned. They could be bored at home for free, no need to go to the trouble of forging a couple of passports.

 

“We could always steal a yacht and check out the riveria.” Root leaned forward, “You and me in bikinis having a little fun in the sun?”

 

Shaw grinned wolfishly at the thought of Root in a bikini, “Now you’re talking.”

 

“We could do that for our anniversary next year. That’s sort of what people do right, plan for each year to top the last one?”

 

“You’re asking me?” Shaw shook her head and then drained the rest of the wine from her glass, “And I told you this isn’t the day we met.” She reached for the bottle. She was going to need much more alcohol in her system for this conversation she just knew it.

 

“I meant our other anniversary.”

 

Shaw paused mid-pour, “How many anniversaries can somebody have?” Yeah, Root was going to have to order another bottle by the time this conversation was over.

 

“It depends on what dates you count as significant.” Root signaled for Shaw to top off her glass as well.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes but reached for Root’s glass anyway. “How about none?”

 

“Don’t be rude, Sam.”

 

“What’s rude about it? Do you honestly buy in to all this sentimental crap?” She handed Root her wine and settled the bottle back in its bucket.

 

Root shook her head, “Not every day, but it could be fun sometimes.”

 

“How could it possibly be fun?”

 

Root smirked at her over the rim of her wine glass, “It all depends on how we choose to celebrate.”

 

“We go to dinner all the time and we really don’t need a specific reason to get physical,” Shaw was cut off by the waiter reappearing with their appetizers.

 

“Do you mind if I order for you, Sweetie?” Shaw waved for her to go ahead. She hadn’t even cracked the menu. Shaw had to admit the way the foreign consonants rolled off of Root’s tongue did give her a bit of a charge. Root sent the waiter on his way with a sly smile.

 

“I hope you didn’t order me a bunch of rabbit food,” Shaw remarked as she started in on the tartare.

 

“Oh no, Sam. I promise your meal is going to be absolutely decadent.” Root ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “You’re going to need the extra energy for later.”

 

“I do like the sound of that.”

 

“I thought you would,” Root teased. The pair sat in silence for a bit after that, enjoying the food and being back in each other’s presence after spending a week apart. Shaw managed to finish all of the tartare and half of the plate of canapes.

 

“So our anniversary…” Root began as Shaw popped the last of the appetizers into her mouth.

 

Shaw glared at her, “Why are you fixated on this?” She grumbled around her mouthful of food.

 

Root dipped her head, “I just think we could have a little fun with it.”

 

“Again I don’t see how some self-imposed pressure to try and be stereotypically romantic would be in anyway fun or something either of us would even be in to in the first place.” Shaw had a vague memory of her parents dressing up and going out to dinner once for theirs, but she didn’t get why she and Root needed to do so.

 

“And again I’m telling you it’s all in the way we’d choose to celebrate it,” Root countered.

 

Plate empty Shaw pushed back slightly from the table. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, enlighten me then.”

 

Root’s expression turned wicked, “Well, for starters I’m wearing something under this dress that I think you’re really going to enjoy ripping off of me.”

 

“I’m going to do that anniversary or not.” Shaw quirked an eyebrow, “But go on, I’m listening.”

 

“So am I,” Root tilted her head to the side just slightly. Her focus shifted from Shaw to the space above her head. The Machine was telling her something finally. Shaw took a sip of her wine while she waited to hear it. The view was exceptional at least. That blue dress was a favorite of hers, even if she had wanted to punch Root in the face the first time she saw her in it at the makeup counter way back when.

 

Root smiled widely when she focused back on Shaw. “And since it’s such a special day She promises that nothing short of another AI apocalypse will cause her to interrupt us this weekend. That and dinner is her gift to us.”

 

“Can’t say I hate the sound of that.”

 

The waiter appeared once again to give them their entrees. Shaw licked her lips as an enormous slab of meat with a side of potatoes was placed before her. Root received a far more reasonable portion of some kind of fish with vegetables.

 

“Now where were we?” Root tapped her bottom lip as if she really had to think about it.

 

“You were trying to convince me that anniversaries weren’t lame,” Shaw mumbled around a mouthful of beefy goodness.

 

“Right,” Root smiled. “Well, like I said I’ve got a little treat on under this dress.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I actually went grocery shopping earlier this afternoon knowing you were coming home, so the fridge is stocked with your favorites. We won’t have to leave the apartment for anything.” Root slid her foot up Shaw’s leg under the table. “Take Her gift in to account and it’s just you and me with seventy two hours to kill.”

 

Shaw swallowed.

 

Root leaned across the table, “And that box of zip ties you ordered arrived this afternoon.”

 

She set her knife and fork down. “Why are we still sitting here? Let’s get the food boxed up and bounce.”

 

Root leaned back in her seat. She waved her hand dismissively, “Oh all that would only matter if we were into celebrating anniversaries.”

 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so lame to try?”

 

“But we don’t know when our anniversary even is,” Root replied, her eyes alight with amusement at Shaw’s expense. “What if there’s no reason to celebrate this weekend?”

 

Shaw’s eyes narrowed, “Then pick something, Root.”

 

“I don’t think that’s the way these things are done, Sweetie.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow, “And when have we ever done things the normal way?”

 

“True,” Root speared a chunk of carrot and brought it to her lips. “But I like the way we do things.” She popped the bit of food into her mouth with a warm smile.

 

“Let’s just call today the anniversary of when Big Brother…”

 

Root cleared her throat, “You know her preferred pronouns, Shaw.”

 

She rolled her eyes but amended her statement, “The anniversary of when Big Sister went rogue OK Cupid and decided to set us up with dinner.” Shaw glanced around for their waiter.

 

“Cute, but not really special enough to warrant a number free weekend. It would be a little irresponsible don’t you think?”

 

Shaw pursed her lips, “You saying an uninterrupted weekend with me isn’t special?” Maybe she could guilt Root into packing up and heading to the house.

 

Root chuckled, “That’s not what I said. But nice try.”

 

Shaw groaned, “You can’t just tease me with zip ties and a number free weekend and not deliver, Root.”

 

She rolled her eyes, please she always delivered. “Well, if it’s not an anniversary I can’t promise we won’t get interrupted with a number, but the zip ties are definitely in your future. I might have missed you this week.”

 

Hours later Shaw threw her right arm over her eyes. Her left was still strapped to the headboard. “Okay, I completely see the appeal with speaking French now,” She panted.

 

Root nipped her hipbone as she slid up a little in bed to rest her chin just above Shaw’s belly button. “I knew I could convince you. Admit it, I am a genius.”

 

Shaw raised her arm a fraction to glare down at her, “Don’t push it.”

 

“What’s got you all growly?”

 

Shaw waved her arm in the air. “These zip ties are crap. I was able to snap one.”

 

“Or maybe I’m just that good,” Root smirked and tilted her head to kiss Shaw’s stomach.

 

“Nah, they’re crap.” She squirmed when Root bit her. “There’s no way we could use these in the field.”

 

“Oh darn,” Root smiled against her skin, “We’ll just have to save them to use at home then.”

 

Shaw chuckled as she reached down to tangle her fingers in Root’s hair. “Guess we’ll just have to double up next time.”

 

“Guess so.” Root sighed as Shaw’s fingers ran through her hair and down the back of her neck. “So not a bad way to celebrate huh?”

 

“Seriously?” Shaw groaned. “We’ve been over this Root.”

 

“Look all I’m saying is if you took something like say the first time we ran a mission together just the two of us…”

 

“October 29,” Shaw supplied without thinking about it. She frowned, “Oh that is today I guess.”

 

“You do remember our anniversary,” Root beamed.

 

“I guess so.”

 

Root rolled to the side and reached for the box of zip ties on the floor beside the bed, “Good thing you got the industrial sized box. We’ve got a lot of hours to kill.”

 

 

 


	11. Turtles, Doves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes in this line of work you have to carry your stoned partner through miles of sewer tunnels.

 

 

“You still with me back there?” Shaw asked as she trudged through what felt like her hundredth mile of sewer tunnel for the night.

 

“Absolutely,” Root slurred from her place on Shaw’s back. She was currently taking a little piggyback ride.

 

“You tell me if you get too tired to hold on and we’ll take a break, okay?”

 

“Uh huh, but I’m not tired. You’re doing all the work,” Root replied.

 

“Just tell me. I don’t want to drop you down here. God knows what I have on my boots now.” Seriously, Root was almost lucky she was stoned out of her mind and most likely wouldn’t remember this. Shaw was reasonably sure the smell would be one she’d never be able to forget. And she was definitely going to have to throw away these boots.

 

“Well it’s a sewer…” Root began, “Do you think we’ll see ninja turtles? The old ones. Not the creepy, uncanny valley, CGI ones.”

 

“Pretty sure there are no CGI turtles down here, Root.” Shaw felt her nod against her shoulder.

 

“We’re sort of like ninja turtles,” She muttered dreamily.

 

So it was time for more drug-fueled nonsense, but as Root’s warm breath on the side of her neck was oddly comforting at the moment, Shaw went with it. “How do you figure?”

 

“Well Donatello, the purple one? He’s a technological savant. Clearly that’s me. Leonardo, the one with the stick in his ass, is obviously Lurch.”

 

Shaw snorted, “I thought you and John were friends now?”

 

“It’s my job as a friend to remind him he has a stick in his ass?”

 

“Are you asking or telling me?”

 

“Both?”

 

Shaw smiled, “Sure, Root.”

 

“Anyway then there’s Michelangelo, the one who tells lame jokes and is obsessed with pizza.”

 

“Lionel,” They said in chorus. God, Shaw hoped The Machine was recording all this.

 

“And finally there’s Raphael.” Root leaned in and pecked Shaw’s cheek, “He’s just as surly as you my little grumpy pants.”

 

Maybe she was a little hasty about wanting a record of this conversation. “Don’t call me that.”

 

“Awe.” Root tucked her face into the back of Shaw’s neck. “But you are grumpy.”

 

“And Finch?” She asked to keep Root from pouting.

 

She felt Root’s smile stretch against her nape, “The rat.”

 

Shaw chuckled despite herself. “There’s one problem with your little analogy, Root.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Yeah, no dog. So no room for Bear.”

 

“Oh no we have to have Bear,” Root cried out. “He’s like your favorite person. We have to have Bear.”

 

“Yep.” Shaw squinted in the low light looking for the junction The Machine had told her through her earpiece was just ahead. She needed to take a left.

 

“Do you think he minds that there’s less room in your bed when he sleeps over now that I’m there too? I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

 

“Uh I’m sure he’s fine,” Shaw muttered, what exactly was she supposed to say to that? “He’s never bitten you or anything so you’re probably solid.”

 

“Yay,” Root did a move that was a cross between a hump and a bounce. Shaw stumbled and almost put them both on their asses, but managed to recover quickly.

 

“How long until this stuff wears off?” Root had been flipping between semi lucid and full on ninja turtle rants since she found her about an hour and a half ago. She had been able to tell Shaw that she had been given regular injections of something for the past day and a half. Shaw had snagged a vial of whatever it was from a case on the desk where she found Root. The drugs were supposed to soften her up until the tech working for the head of the cartel could arrive in order to interrogate her about what she had done to their system.

 

“I don’t know,” Root replied.

 

“I was asking your other girlfriend.”

 

“Oh, ask her why I always get stuck with stuff.”

 

“Probably because your kinky ass gets off on being hit with Tasers.”

 

Root had been missing for three days. Shaw hadn’t known right away as she had been working a number undercover with Reese. Finch and Lionel had tried to look for Root on their own to no avail. Finally, after two days The Machine had clued her in to what was going on. After an angry phone call to Finch, Shaw had left Reese to deal with their number and set off to look for her missing partner.

 

Root had been working an angle on the local branch of a Mexican cartel. They had been pushing a huge amount of meth through the city. Meth which five numbers had overdosed on recently. Root had thought she had gotten the lowdown on their headquarters, and since Shaw and Reese were busy with their number, and Lionel had his son for the weekend, she had gone to investigate on her own.

 

She had checked in with Finch to tell him she had been right. She was going to plant a virus in their system to disable their network and send information back for Lionel to rout to his buddies in the drug unit. The only problem was they were smart enough to use a closed local network. She would have to physically patch into the system to do her thing.

 

When Root had failed to check in after two hours as agreed Finch had started to worry. He had waited another hour just in case and then called in Lionel to check out her last known location. He had found a smashed laptop, a dead gangbanger, and a bunch of shell casings. The Machine just kept sending Finch the message: “Taken, unconscious, alive, find,” on repeat. But Fusco could discover no sign of where they could have taken Root.

 

The cartel had been unknowingly operating out of a warehouse within the shadow map. No cameras meant The Machine hadn’t been able to visually track Root. Finch had been able to ping her cell phone down to a train yard over the bridge in Jersey, but when Lionel had arrived at the building in question all he had found were a bunch of guys packing bundles of meth into some shipping crates. The phone had been in a pile of miscellaneous stolen property in an old delivery truck. No one knew anything about Root.

 

Had they let Shaw know what was up sooner she could have told them about the tracking chip she had placed in the lining of Root’s jacket. Once activated she was able to trace her to a van parked beside another warehouse, this one down near the wharf. Shaw found the jacket, bloodstained and crumpled in the back of the van. She had cursed Harold and Lionel loudly before going com silent and storming into the warehouse.

 

Shaw had found Root in a back room that doubled as an office covered in blood. Thankfully, as far as she could tell most of it belonged to the two men dead on the floor beside her. They had thought drugging Root would make her helpless, instead it had just removed what little restraint she had. When one of the guys had gotten sloppy with his supplies after giving her another injection she had taken the opportunity to strike. Luckily, she had been able to put the men down before the idiots had managed to OD her on whatever the hell they were pumping her full of.

 

Shaw shifted her grip on the back of Root’s thighs. The drugs on top of the beating she had been given when she was taken had made it almost impossible for Root to stand up unassisted. Shaw had finally had to haul the hacker on to her back to get the two of them out of the warehouse where Root had been held.

 

“Are they going to be mad at me?” She asked in a small voice.

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“Harry and Her. I killed those guys. They don’t like when I kill people. Especially if it’s messy.” She had put a syringe through the left eye of the first, before shooting him with his own gun and then double tapping the second when he came to investigate. Shaw frankly, had been impressed Root had managed it given how out of it she was.

 

“No one is going to be mad at you Root.” Shaw grunted as Root shifted her weight. “If anything they’ll be pissed at me for burning that hellhole to the ground.” She may have rigged the building to explode just in time for the men sent to interrogate Root to arrive. Hence, the reason for their little trip through the sewers.

 

“Are you sure? She hasn’t been talking to me.”

 

“That’s because she’s trying to talk me out of these tunnels.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, Root. She also says she’s been trying to speak to you this whole time. Be quiet for a minute and try to listen.”

 

That earned Shaw two minutes of blissful silence. God knows Root was right up there with her mother and Bear as to the importance of the woman in Shaw’s life, but her ears were in danger of bleeding from all the chatter. She had thought Root was bad with her barely existent filter but damn this was a whole other level.

 

Root shifted her weight again. “Have I ever told you how much I love your shoulders?” Shaw felt something warm and wet trail under the strap of her tank top and along her shoulder blade.

 

“Did you just lick me?”

 

“They’re just so cut, and sexy, and lickable,” Root purred. “Sometimes when you’re working out I get the urge to straddle you on your weight bench and just lick all the sweat off.”

 

“Okay…” Shaw drawled. “That’s somehow gross and hot at the same time.”  

 

“Dirty hot, Sameen. The phrase you are looking for is dirty hot. As in Sameen is so dirty hot I want to push her against the wall and fuck…” Root burst in to giggles.

 

Shaw turned her head to glance back at Root’s face, “Don’t see how that sentence was leading to a punch line.”

 

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how funny pancakes are.”

 

“Pancakes?” Shaw knew she was high but how did Root’s mind go from pressing her against the wall to pancakes?

 

“Yeah,” Shaw felt Root nod against her shoulder. “We had pancakes for breakfast the morning after the first time I pushed you against a wall and fucked you.”

 

Okay. “What the hell was in that stuff they dosed you with?”

 

“I don’t know, Sammie. She’s trying to tell me but the words have so many letters.”

 

“That’s alright, Root. We’ll figure it out after I get you somewhere safe.” The Machine had hypothesized that whatever Root was given wouldn’t be lethal given the cartel’s track record for messier executions and the fact that they still wanted to speak with Root about what she had done to crash their network. Shaw just had to get her out of here and then they could start to determine the best way to clean whatever it was out her system.

 

“I’m always safe with you.” After a beat Root groaned, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

“Why?” It was actually kind of nice, for sappy drivel that is.

 

“Because you go all awkward turtle when I say stuff like that.” Root laughed, “Turtles again.”

 

“It’s okay, you can say whatever you want, Root.” It was a damn sight better than the alternative. Shaw’s ears would recover eventually.

 

“No I can’t. It makes you all weird. I don’t want to be someone who makes you weird.”

 

Shaw was carrying her stoned ass through the sewers, while she rambled about ninja turtles, if that wasn’t weird, “Pretty sure the ship has sailed on that one already.”

 

“Not weird, weird,” Root was beginning to sound frustrated. She tapped Shaw’s chest, “Like weird here. I say stuff and because you can’t say it back you think you’re weird. But you’re not you’re perfect.”

 

“Hardly,” Shaw snorted.

 

“You are,” Root declared emphatically. “You just think you’re not because you don’t do things like everyone else but how everyone else does things is stupid. And stupid is not sexy. And you are…sexy.”

 

“Well, I do agree with that last bit.”

 

“Sometimes I think I’m going to wake up and you’ll just be some dream I had.”

 

“Nightmare?” Shaw teased.

 

“Don’t say stuff like that. I don’t like it.” Root squeezed her so hard Shaw almost fell over.

 

“Alright, Root. I won’t. Just ease up with the thighs okay?”

 

Root started giggling again, “You said that the last time you went down on me. But that thing you were doing with your tongue on my clit was just so good I couldn’t help it.” She nuzzled the skin behind Shaw’s right ear, “No one’s ever made me come as hard as you do.”

 

“Good to know.”

 

“Yeah, you should be proud.” Root lowered her voice, “But don’t tell anyone because they’d all want to take you from me.”

 

“I’m a person not an iPhone, Root. No one can take me from you.”

 

“They did before. Samaritan took you and I couldn’t find you.” She started squeezing Shaw again. “I couldn’t find you and they hurt you.”

 

Shaw sighed, she should have known Root’s drug addled mind would turn there eventually, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, bad news you’re kind of stuck with me.” Not that Shaw minded that thought in the least anymore, honestly. If she could do the long-term thing with anyone it was going to be Root.

 

“More like best news ever.” And Root was back doing her boa constrictor impression.

 

When she released Shaw’s neck enough so that she could breathe again she glanced over her shoulder at her, “I thought that was when the Artificial Super Intelligence told you she wanted you to be her bitch?”

 

Root bit her lip, “I don’t think that’s how that happened.”

 

“You sure about that?” Shaw chuckled.

 

“Don’t know everything’s a little fuzzy. I think I might be tripping on something.”

 

“You don’t say.” Shaw smiled as she noticed the tunnel in front of them getting lighter. The Machine confirmed through her earpiece that they were indeed about to hit a large drainage culvert and the surface once again. She’d steal a car, something with plenty of leg room so Root could lie down, and head for the nearest safe house. Hopefully, she’d be able to bring Root back down to earth in a controlled manner now.

 

“Oh look doves!”

 

“Those are pigeons, Root.”

 

“Ninja doves.”

 


	12. In a Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, last one. I hope whether you're celebrating something tomorrow or not, reading this in December or six months from now, whenever and whatever is going on with your life as you've read this, that it brought you some fun for a little while. It's been a blast for me to write and see everyone's reactions to my random little ideas. Thank you all for reading! May we have a bunch of Shoot to enjoy in the new year!

 

 

Federal Marshals flooded the little used entrance to the park. Some might find the response a bit extreme but as several men had been injured in a car bomb meant for a missing witness, the marshals were simply exhibiting some much needed caution. Three figures stood watching as vehicle after vehicle arrived and created a perimeter.

 

“Looks like you’re pretty popular Dougie,” The tallest of the three said slapping a large hand over the shoulder of a younger man.

 

“Great,” He gulped.

 

“Don’t worry so much,” The third member of their party teased. “I’m sure whatever backwater hole they stash you in will have a sports bar.”

 

“Just don’t start your bookie routine back up,” The tall man ordered.

 

“Because you kind of suck at it,” The third added. She tilted her head to the side as if listening to someone whisper in her ear, “We’re good to go.”

 

The tall man nodded and shoved the younger man forward. They moved slowly from their position in the shadows towards the waiting marshals. They were quickly noticed and approached by a group of men. “Marshal David Anderson,” The one who seemed to be in charge introduced himself.

 

“Detectives Riley and Ginsburg,” Reese told the man as he and Root flashed their badges at him.

 

“Detectives,” Anderson dipped his head in recognition. “It’s good to see you. Thanks for picking up our missing lamb and bringing him home.” The two marshals with Anderson quickly flanked their number and ushered him to the back of a waiting vehicle.

 

“That’s Riley, just a big dumb sheep dog,” Root joked.

 

“And that makes you what?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“A shepherd of course.”

 

Anderson shook his head at them, “I’m still not sure how you two got involved in this mess detective.”

 

“Dougie is a family friend,” Reese explained, knowing that the marshal wouldn’t ask too many questions if he was given something remotely plausible.

 

Anderson rubbed his jaw; that sort of played. Made sense that the kid would run to family, or the next best thing, after watching his detail being attacked and then getting kidnapped. He turned his attention to the woman, “And you Detective Ginsburg?”

 

“Detective Riley is a family friend,” She smiled.

 

“Uh huh,” Anderson nodded, wondering if that excuse would fly with either of their Captains and then deciding it wasn’t his problem. “Well, thank you both.” He reached out and shook each of their hands in turn.

 

“Tell your boys to take better care of their witnesses,” Reese grumbled. Anderson shook his head and walked toward his waiting vehicle.

 

“You are such a charmer,” Root rolled her eyes at Reese. “You must have been the finishing school valedictorian.”

 

“I don’t have to do charm. It’s what you’re here for.” He turned and started walking to where they had agreed to rendezvous with Shaw.

 

“Was that a complement?”

 

“No.”

 

They walked through the quiet park. They passed a few early morning joggers and one man who was either homeless or doing some type of performance art installation given how many cardboard boxes he had amassed. Soon they had reached the rendezvous point but something was decidedly missing.

 

Reese glanced around, “This is the spot we agreed on right?”

 

“Yes,” Root nodded, “But where’s Shaw?” She had stayed behind at their last location to hand over a few zip tied thugs to Lionel. But she should have been here by now.

 

Reese wasn’t really concerned, “She probably saw a hot dog vendor and stopped off for a snack.”

 

Root grimaced it wasn’t even seven in the morning yet. A bit early for hot dogs in her opinion. But this was New York; you could get anything at any time of the day or night if you wanted. And Shaw never let little things like time of day or being in the middle of a mission keep her stomach from a much needed snack.

 

The Machine relayed a set of coordinates in Root’s ear. She said that Shaw was fine but to Root’s confusion she instructed her to seek out Shaw alone. “She has eyes on our girl. How about you go get the car and we’ll meet you at the entrance over there?”

 

Reese nodded, “Try and get her to finish her breakfast before you get to the street. If we get another number I’d really rather not spend the day in a car that smells like hot dogs.”

 

“So you’re not planning on working with Lionel today either?”

 

“Good point,” Reese conceded as he walked away.

 

Root followed The Machine’s instructions, indeed passing a hot dog cart along the way. She nodded to the weary eyed vendor and kept moving along. The journey ended, to her confusion, under a large oak tree. Root glanced around but saw no sign of Shaw. “I don’t see her. Are you sure she didn’t move out of camera range?”

 

“Root?” A voice called out from above her.

 

“Sam?” Root questioned. “Where are you?”

 

“Uh, look up.”

 

Root did as told, glancing up to see what appeared to be the bottom of one of Shaw’s boots dangling from a branch. The leaves were too thick to see the rest of her from this angle. “What in the world are you doing up there?”

 

“Just making sure you weren’t followed,” Shaw replied.

 

“Up a tree?”

 

“Yes, up a tree,” Shaw huffed. “High ground, it’s all about vantage points, Root. You have to start thinking more tactically.”

 

“You do realize she has been tracking us across the park with cameras? She’d warn me if we’d been followed.”

 

“Never can be too careful.”

 

“Well, you can come down now. Lurch and I put Dorsey in the car with the Federal Marshals already.” Shaw swung down from the upper branches with one arm and landed in front of Root. Her other arm was wrapped around her middle just below the curve of her breasts. The duffel bag with their weapons was still strapped to her back.

 

Root tilted her head to the side in thought, “Why are you holding your arm to your chest like that?”

 

“Like what?” Shaw asked, continuing to press her arm to her body.

 

“Like that,” Root poked her arm. “Did you get tagged?” Shaw had appeared fine after their little firefight earlier when they had freed their number from a squad of hitmen.

 

“No, Root. I told you I would tell you whenever I got hurt from now on.”

 

“Then what’s with your arm?”

 

“I’m just ah, a little cold.”

 

“Okay, well John went to get the car. We’ll get you warmed up soon.”

 

“Great,” Shaw nodded. “Let’s go then.” She put her hand in the small of Root’s back and tried to usher her forward.

 

But something strange caught Root’s eye, “Did your shirt just move?”

 

“No,” Shaw scoffed.

 

“It did.” Root tilted her head to the side and watched as part of Shaw’s chest seemed to undulate. “It just did it again.”

 

“I think you hit your head earlier.”

 

Root held up a hand. “I’ve seen _Alien_ , Sam. I know this doesn’t end well.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “How did I end up with such a…”

 

“Tremendously sexy woman who puts up with your attitude?” Root smiled, “You’re just blessed.” Her eyes narrowed, “And your shirt is moving again.”

 

Before Shaw could say anything a tiny “Mew” came from her chest. “Wait,” Root smiled, “Is that?” She reached for the zipper on Shaw’s hoodie.

 

Shaw pivoted her hips so that her chest was turned away and slapped at Root’s hand, “We’re in public. Stop trying to molest me.”

 

“Please, I haven’t even begun to molest you.”

 

“Do you ever think about how things sound before you say them?”

 

Root raked her teeth over her lower lip and smiled, “Only when I’m trying to get into your pants.”

 

“Well good luck with that happening again any time soon.”

 

“I don’t need luck for that, Sameen.” Root placed her hands on Shaw’s shoulders. She leaned in so that her lips brushed against her ear, “All I have to do is show up.” She nipped her earlobe with her teeth.

 

“Uh,” Shaw stuttered.

 

The moment of distraction was all Root required to strike. She slid her right arm down and around Shaw’s waist and quickly reached for the zipper on her hoodie. “Oh my god!”

 

“Don’t make this a thing,” Shaw groaned.

 

A tiny black kitten was indeed tucked inside of Shaw’s jacket. “What I could make are so many jokes about pussy right about now.” Root reached out and scooped the small creature up and into her arms.

 

“Try to limit yourself to five,” Shaw grumbled. She knew asking for any less would be a waste of time. Root wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity like this one.

 

“You know I don’t work well with restraints.” At Shaw’s raised eyebrow she amended, “Creative restraints.” Root frowned, “Why do you have to limit my fun, Sameen?”

 

“Because I don’t have all day to stand here and listen to you talk about pussy,” Shaw deadpanned.

 

Root covered the kitten’s ears, “Not in front of the child.”

 

“Hilarious,” Shaw growled with murder in her eyes.

 

Root was nonplused by her glare, “I didn’t realize we were at the getting a cat together stage of our relationship.”

 

“We’re not,” Shaw snapped. “It was stuck.”

 

“To your chest?” Root pointedly stared at said area. She licked her lips, “Lucky kitten.”

 

“In the tree,” Shaw growled. “It was stuck in the tree and I couldn’t just leave it up there. It’s just a baby.”

 

Root glanced up at the tree. It looked like quite a climb for a person let alone a small animal. “How did it even get up there?”

 

“Some dumbass that doesn’t deserve a pet, doing something stupid, most likely.”

 

Root smiled totally charmed by Shaw’s indignant grumbling. She absolutely adored it when Shaw would let go and let herself be soft and unguarded around Bear. She could see a bit of that in her eyes right now.

 

“I’ve never had a pet before,” Root commented as a plan formed in her mind.

 

“Uh Bear?” He was sort of like the team dog.

 

“Is yours.”

 

Shaw shrugged, “He mostly stays with Finch. And John’s the one who found him to begin with. We all take him on missions.”

 

“Alright Bear is some type of four legged timeshare.” Root held the kitten up, “But this little guy…”

 

“Probably belongs to an idiot.”

 

“Well, I think an emergency adoption is in order here. Don’t you?”

 

Shaw scuffed the ground with the toe of her boot. “I mean I guess it’d be a waste of my time to climb up there and get it down if we were just going to return it to some moron,” She said as if the thought hadn’t been running through her mind all along.

 

“Then it’s settled,” Root started to walk back to the entrance area where Reese should be waiting with the car. “He comes with us.”

 

“What are we going to tell John?” He wasn’t about to let the fact that they were going to just randomly appear with a cat go by without asking any questions. Questions Shaw really did not want to have to answer.

 

“That we decided to fully embrace our lesbian lifestyle and adopt a cat?” Root grinned.

 

“Again you’re not as funny as you think.”

 

“And you’re clearly not as heartless as you’d like everyone to believe.” Root held the kitten up again to prove her point.

 

Shaw sighed, “Animals are better than most people.”

 

“I won’t argue you there.” Root reached back to grab Shaw’s wrist. She tugged until the woman was standing beside her. She gently handed the kitten back to Shaw. “It will be fine. Trust me.” She placed her hand on the small of Shaw’s back. “Let’s go before John decides to come looking.”

 

Shaw tucked the kitten back into her hoodie to keep it warm. “Fine,” She huffed. “You have to help me hide the body when I kill him for being annoying about this.”

 

“Of course, Sweetie. She knows all the best body dump locations.”

 

It didn’t take long to reach the car. Root opened the rear passenger side door and motioned for Shaw to climb in the vehicle first. Once Shaw was settled behind the driver’s seat Root climbed in beside her and shut the door. Reese turned around to scowl at them. “Home, Jeeves.” Root waved towards the street.

 

“Wait, you two know the rule. One of you needs to sit up here.” He nodded towards the passenger seat.

 

“Sorry, Tarzan we’ve got a special project we both need to sit in the back to work on.”

 

“I am not driving the two of you around while you have sex.” There were lines he was simply unwilling to cross for his friends.

 

“Why does your mind always go there?” Shaw growled. They didn’t have sex all of the time. Even if they did Reese sure as hell didn’t need to spend so much time thinking about it.

 

“Because the two of you tend to hump like rabbits when you’re not being shot at,” He replied.

 

“Sometimes even when we are,” Root added with an easy grin. Good times.

 

“Whenever it happens I don’t want to see it, so one of you get up here.”

 

“No can do, we have a situ…” Root was interrupted by an indignant “mew.” Their little friend had woken up again and was trying to climb over Shaw’s arm and onto Root’s lap.

 

Reese turned around in his seat, “Is that a cat?”

 

“Yep,” Root replied popping the p.

 

“Do I even want know where the two of you got a cat? Or why?” Shaw choked back a groan. She was never going to hear the end of this. Root was bad enough, but Reese would make this absolute hell for her.

 

Root shot an evil grin at Shaw. She turned to face the front seat, “It was stuck in a tree.”

 

Reese frowned, “Didn’t take you for the type to rescue cats from trees, Root.”

 

“Well, I couldn’t very well leave it up there. It’s just a baby.” She smiled, “Sameen thought I was being foolish of course.”

 

“Of course,” Reese nodded. He could only imagine Shaw’s face when Root started climbing a tree. He was almost sorry he missed it.

 

“But Bear could use a friend to keep him company during the day when we’re off saving the world and Harry’s got his face glued to the monitors,” Root smiled. “I think this little guy will fit the bill nicely.”

 

“And you went along with this?” Reese looked to Shaw. He knew she had a soft spot for Bear but this seemed a little much. And she’d never expressed any fondness for cats. His eyes darted over to Root who was now teasing the kitten with the cord from Shaw’s hoodie. Well, no fondness for literal cats.

 

Shaw shrugged her shoulders, “Bear could use a friend, I guess.”

 

Reese put the car in drive. He was becoming accustomed to Root’s mercurial nature. If deciding to randomly adopt a cat was the weirdest thing she did this month then they were all coming out ahead.

 

Shaw let out a breath. She couldn’t believe Reese actually bought all that. “You owe me,” Root leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

 

“I’ll let you tase me later,” She replied, her voice equally hushed.

 

“Oh you’ll have to do better than that.” She nuzzled the skin behind her ear, “But it’s a good start.”

 

“Hands where I can see them,” Reese called as he glared at them in the rearview mirror. Root glanced up to see that they had come to a stop light.

 

“You’re overly invested in our sex life there, Lurch. If you’re feeling that lonely I’m sure She can set up an account for you on Angler.”

 

“Because that worked so well for Shaw?” He asked to attempt to throw Root’s attention off his love life. The absolute last thing he needed was her or The Machine meddling.

 

“Seeing as she ended those little escapades with a night spent with me?” Root leaned forward, “Yeah, it worked swimmingly.”

 

“But The Machine didn’t have a thing to do with that.”

 

“Didn’t she?” She smirked.

 

“Yeah, well I don’t think Skynet needs to waste her time picking up chicks for John,” Shaw cut in.

 

“No, no she doesn’t,” Reese agreed.

 

“Fine with me.” Root sat back in her seat. “If you want to die alone that’s your business,” She drawled. “At least we have an assortment of boring suits to burry you in.”

 

“He won’t be alone,” Shaw replied. “He always has Lionel.”

 

“I’d rather be alone.” The phone in his pocket beeped with a message alert. He didn’t check it as Root mumbled something to Shaw about swiping left.

 

Before long they were making their way down into the subway station. Root had passed the kitten back to Shaw while she fumbled with her phone in an attempt to take a picture of the two. “Knock it off, Root.”

 

“But it’s his first moments in his new home. I have to save this for posterity.”

 

“I’m going to kick you in your posterity if you don’t put the phone away,” Shaw growled at her.

 

Reese sidestepped the playfully arguing pair to greet Finch. “Harold,” He nodded.

 

Finch was staring at Root and Shaw, “Is that a cat?”

 

"It was up a tree."

 

"A tree?" Finch's brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“Yes, Root decided Bear needed a playmate.”

 

“That’s…”

 

“Entirely random? Yeah. That’s Root for you,” Reese shrugged.

 

Finch frowned, “Bear is a highly trained animal we don’t know how he’ll respond to another creature in his territory.”

 

“Oh, it’ll be fine, Harry,” Root replied finished antagonizing Shaw for the moment. “Bear’s a big softie.” She motioned for Shaw to place the kitten on the ground.

 

“Here goes,” Shaw called Bear over. “Hey Handsome, don’t be a jerk okay?” With a quick breath she set the kitten down in front of Bear.

 

Bear looked at the kitten. The kitten looked up at Bear. Bear looked up at Shaw. Shaw looked down at Bear. Then Bear turned and walked back to his bed and flopped down. The kitten followed, sliding every so often when it lost it’s footing on the smooth concrete. When it reached the bed it hopped up and after two attempts settled next to Bear’s head.

 

“Awe,” Root squealed. “I told you it would be fine, Harry.”

 

“Yes, well,” Finch tried and failed to sound stern, “I am not cleaning up after a dog and a cat.”

 

“We’ll take care of the cat, Finch,” Shaw cut him off. “And you know I never mind helping out with Bear.”

 

“I think he just likes to complain, Sweetie.”

 

Finch’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, “The two of you give me ample reason to complain with your antics.”

 

“Watch out ladies, he’ll accuse you of shenanigans next,” Reese cautioned them with a grin.

 

“Can’t have that,” Shaw remarked as she walked to the train car to go put away most of her and Root’s weapons. Reese followed her with his.

 

“I did tell the cleaners to switch the starch in his shirts just to see if he’d notice,” Root added in a stage whisper with a smirk.

 

Finch turned his face to the heavens, “What did I do to deserve this?”

 

“Unleash an all seeing robot god on the world?” Shaw called out to him in answer.

 

“It’s not a god,” Finch snapped out of habit.

 

“She’s not a robot,” Root chided her.

 

“Jeez can’t win with anyone today,” Shaw muttered rolling her eyes. She opened up the gun locker. She tucked Root’s taser into its charging station first thing.

 

“I don’t know. I’m enjoying it,” Reese said as he handed her a rifle to put away.

 

“You need to service that first,” She shoved it back at him.

 

“Who needs to be serviced?” Root popped her head into the door to ask with a sly grin.

 

“There will be no servicing in the station. Walking in on that once was quite enough,” Finch barked.

 

“Highlight of your life,” Shaw grumbled under her breath. He had wandered in right before Root was going to get to the good stuff. Harold probably didn’t realize how close he had come to being shanked that day.

 

“What was that?” Reese chuckled. She simply glared at him in reply. “Suppose I’ll get started on cleaning this then.” He held up the rifle and took it and a cleaning kit out to one of the benches in the station proper to set up.

 

“You sure you don’t need an extra set of hands in here, Sweetie?”

 

“Ms. Groves,” Finch called from his workstation.

 

“Go on before he pops a button,” Shaw waved her away.

 

Root smiled and stepped fully into the train car and then Shaw’s personal space, “I’m going to pop something of yours later.” She pecked Shaw on the cheek. “Be right there, Harry.” She smacked Shaw on the ass and walked away.

 

Root and Finch were soon fully engaged in debating the finer points of an algorithm to update The Machine’s facial recognition software. Seeing as her partner was occupied having nerd time, Shaw began to inventory and inspect their weapons cache. She was so invested in her work that she didn’t realize right away that Root and Finch had finished their discussion. “Uh just give me about ten minutes to finish with these last few.” She gestured to the few guns remaining on the work bench beside her.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Root waved her off. She sat down next to Bear’s bed and began to wave a spare bit of cabling in front of the kitten, which began to eagerly bat at it. Bear; for his part, simply huffed and snuggled back down to watch the proceedings. “I’ll spend some quality time with the new kid.”

 

After about five minutes they heard the entrance above them open and heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. “Why is it that I’m the one who always gets stuck doing the paperwork when you all decide to wreck shop across the city?”

 

“Because you’re such a model officer of the law, Lionel,” Reese chuckled.

 

“One of these days I’m not going to be around to cover your ass,” Fusco grumbled, fully stepping into view. He stumbled when he noticed Root reclining on the floor beside Bear’s bed. Fusco looked between Root and the kitten running around her legs for several seconds. “What’s Nutter Butter going to do to that cat?”

 

“What?” Finch stood from his seat and walked over to him with a frown. Ms. Groves could fall to extremes with her behavior at times but how could Detective Fusco possibly assume she’d harm an animal for no apparent reason? “Why on Earth do you think she’s going to do something to it?”

 

Fusco squinted at him, “Because it’s Nutter Butter?”

 

Shaw stuck her head out of the train car to glare at him, “What do you think she’s going to do, figure out some way to weaponize the kitten, Lionel?”

 

“I don’t know.” He grunted, “You never know with her. She’s like an evil genius.”

 

“Awe thanks,” Root snickered.

 

“Wasn’t a complement,” Fusco scowled at her. “I never know with any of you lunatics. Maybe the robot she worships is asking for sacrifices or something now.” Someone was apparently still mad about the assassin left tied up in the trunk of his car to stew.

 

“And you think it’s starting with kittens?” Reese shook his head.

 

“Pretty sure if the time ever came She’d jump straight to humans.” Root smiled as she looked up at him, “Maybe a cow or two as a warm up, but definitely humans for the most part. Probably go old school and start with virgins.”

 

“Good thing Fusco isn’t a virgin,” Reese chuckled.

 

Shaw stepped out of the train car with her arms crossed over her chest, “Are we sure about that?”

 

Reese shrugged, “The kid he hangs around sort of looks like him.”

 

Fusco didn’t know which one of them to glower at first. “I really hate the lot of you.”

 

“And I much prefer when the three of you do this routine with other people,” Finch deadpanned as he walked back over to his workstation.

 

“See I knew Harry thought we were funny!”

 

“I don’t believe funny is the exact word I’d choose Ms. Groves.”

 

“Funny in the head, Glasses,” Fusco chimed in.

 

Before he could reply a message flashed across his screen. “Hold that thought, Detective. Seems we have a new number. Two of them in fact.” Reese and Fusco started to walk over to check things out on the monitors as Finch began pulling up information.

 

“That we do,” Root nodded as she stood up. She gently tucked the kitten back down beside Bear on his bed. She wiped her palms on her thighs. “Shaw and I have a train to catch.” She glanced over at her partner. “You still have that grenade launcher?”

 

Shaw smiled, “I’ve been waiting for this day.” She turned to walk back into the train car to grab the requested weaponry. Root followed her to pick up more ammo for her own guns.

 

“Those two still scare me sometimes,” Fusco whispered to Reese.

 

“Join the club, Detective,” Finch said, having overheard him.

 

Reese shook his head at the both of them, “Hey, at least they’re on our side.”

 

“A fact for which I find myself surprisingly grateful,” Finch agreed.

 

Soon Shaw practically skipped out of the train car with a duffel twice the size of the one she usually carried slung over her left shoulder. “Don’t worry. I already grabbed your spare taser and four extra clips for your sidearms.”

 

Root followed her with a soft smile on her face, “You take such good care of me.”

 

Shaw knelt down to scratch Bear between the ears, “Be cool with the new kid until we get back, Handsome.” She gave the kitten a pat, “Follow Bear’s lead, he knows what’s up.” She shot a glare over to the guys as if daring them to comment on her conversation. They wisely turned to busy themselves with researching their number.

 

Root looped her arm through Shaw’s when she stood up. “Come on, on the way back we can stop to get little Schrodinger some supplies.”

 

“We are not naming it that.”

 

 


End file.
